An Illusive Truth: Part 2
by Professor Horatio Hufnagel
Summary: Sorry 4 the long wait, guys. An ancient prophecy falls into the wrong hands & ignites a raging battle between the Assassins & Thieves, dragging the XMen along for the ride. But is the prophecy true, or merely a legend? XMen x ROMY x the Guilds x epic. R
1. The Prophecy

**DEAR READER:** There are a few **important** things you should know...I'll make this as short as possible so you'll actually stop to read it.  
I don't read many X-Men comics (I watched the tv program years back), so I did a **_lot_** of research to make this story work Therefore...  
- Set sometime around Gambit (3rd Series) #22, 24  
- Some storyline content has been tinkered with (ex, Joseph didn't die)  
- Timelines have been reworked to allow things to overlap  
- IS A TRILOGY (To understand this story, you must read "An Illusive Truth: Part 1", or at _least_ just the end chapter)  
-_Remember:_ Keep the title in mind...what is true may be true in a totally different context than what you believe : D  
- LET ME KNOW: (through review or message) if you are totally confused (because I'm not explaining myself properly), or if I made important mistakes in the content...If you're having problems understanding it, then I'm sure a whole bunch of other people are, and it's good for me to correct my wrong doings

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Before we start, here's a _brief_ **shout out to all of my reviewers** from the first Part (in order of review):  
Southern Devil, RogueFreak, RG Marie, Hawaiichick, Grin Reaper, Roguechere, Remy'sRose, RogueishLeia, PeppermintLove, inTHEgrid, Greykupo, tking, and prieda! 

I hope this chapter answers a lot of your questions, and you all have kept this story alive!!! No doubt about it, I just LOVE your predictions (some of you are getting close, it's eerie...but I've got some cards up my sleeve that will keep you on your toes), and your novel-long responses! I don't know what else to say other than...  
You all rock!!!!!!!!! xoxoxo  
Prof. Horatio Hufnagel

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DISCLAIMER: You know the drill, it all pretty much belongs to Marvel ...I'm just the pupeteer (dance puppets, dance!)

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In times of old it was foreseen that men of kin would divide into two, and the world would be plagued with prejudice and intolerance. Although lost amongst the many words of illusive tales, the prophecy of ultimate power and riches remains to be whispered through time. 

This is its story

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It was silent. Deadly silent. He listened to the sound of his footsteps echo off of the granite tiling, down through the long hall. He took steady strides towards the door at the end, despite the nervous tremor of his hand. He squeezed his fist tight around the scroll to stop its violent shaking. Somehow this grounded him, made his mind snap back into focus. Everything had gone smoothly, according to plan. The scroll was apprehended and the moles had gone unnoticed. For once, he could say with confidence that she would be happy. So why was he even remotely nervous?

When he reached the door, he stopped to look down at the thin piece of parchment. It was at this moment that he knew. He thought it ironic how a few words on a page could hold such power. He knew the gravity of the situation before him; he knew that this was a pivotal moment in history. That is what scared him. …No, that is what _thrilled_ him.

He twisted the door knob and swung the door open. The circular study was dimly lit, with a single chandelier suspended from the ceiling. Several book shelves wrapped around the wall, and a large oak desk anchored his attention to the centre of the room, across from where he stood.

A woman sat in an extravagant leather armchair behind the desk, her interest focused on the book that lay open in her lap. She chose to ignore his presence and continued to skim through the literature. After several moments had passed, she closed the book and raised her head, brushing a few blond tresses from her face. Her eyes locked with his, and her hand absent-mindedly found the arm-rest, beginning to stroke the gold studs that ran along the leather seams.

At first he thought she wasn't going to talk, but he knew better than to make the first move. He waited patiently, and sure enough she spoke a moment later.

….

"Did you get it?"

"D'you really gotta ask?" Gris-Gris jeered wickedly and waved the scroll in the air at eye level, the beads embedded in his thick hair dancing with every move.

"Excellent!"

Belladonna quickly stood from her seat and made her way across the study to Gris-Gris. She was a woman of unimaginable strength, despite her seemingly waif-like figure and waist. Her sunken facial features would've known the likes of beauty, but the heir of smugness that now took up permanent residence robbed her face of any redeeming qualities. Arguably, it could have been from her several years as leader of the infamous Assassins Guild. The Assassins were an organization that operated from the underbelly of New Orleans, and were notorious for thievery and murder. They were ravenous by nature, a distinct contrast to their arch-enemies, the Thieves, who limited themselves to stealing (and a few other sins). However, some would say that Belladonna Boudreaux was jilted one too many times in her life, and was hell-bent on revenge. Either way, she had proven herself a force not to be reckoned with…repeatedly.

She smiled and spoke in a convincingly calm, and _surprisingly_ sweet, manner. "So, de rumors 'bout d' Old Kingdom, they were correct..."

As unpredictable as the weather, her mood changed on a dime and her eyes narrowed into slits. "…And dey tink it wise t'hide dis from us?" She scoffed with muted rage, but she was never very good at controlling her temper. "Imbeciles! Don'tdey** _know_ who WE ARE???**"

Gris-Gris cringed as her shrieks rang through his ears. "Guess dey tought we'd never figure it out…" he offered. Noticing her shoulders stiffen, he knew it was time for some damage control before she hit the roof. " –but _you_ did." He nodded his head towards the stacks of books on the shelves. "Lotsa books t'sort trough, takes lotsa time t'read between de lines. And y'did it."

"Yes, well…" The menacing scowl eased on her face considerably. She remained lost in a pleasant daydream of self praise and approval for a moment or so, then shook her head lightly and beamed back at Gris-Gris.

Her palm outstretched to receive the coil of aged parchment. "De prophecy, s'il vous plait."

Gris-Gris handed her the scroll and watched as she unfurled it, hungry for the long awaited answer. He jumped to her side, also eager to read the parchment he had been assigned to retrieve at _any_ cost. She began to read aloud:

" 'In times of old it was foreseen that men of kin would divide into two, and the world would be plagued with prejudice and intolerance. Although lost amongst –' **I know dis already!**" Belladonna interrupted herself, feeling her face begin to redden in anger.

"Jus' keep reading." Gris-Gris assured her. "Dere's bound t'be more."

She took a deep breath and inspected the rest of the parchment. Her lips broke out into a wicked grin and she cleared her throat, continuing to read in a musical tone.

"Although lost amongst the many words of illusive tales, the prophecy of ultimate power and riches remains to be whispered through time.

Listen closely to its calling:

- - Ye seek out the guardians  
with gemstones of truth  
fighting honorably alongside their guild

By the blood of the new son  
rich and pure  
a society of great power thou shall build - - "

…

Neither of them spoke; Belladonna was caught up in thought, and Gris-Gris was simply too afraid to disrupt her. But after several moments of excruciating silence, he had to say something.

"Whuz it mean, Belle?"

"It meeaaans" she drew out in an exasperated and condescending voice "dat my suspicions wuz right b'fore, and dat operations must proceed as planned."

…

It only took her one glance in his direction to see that he was completely lost. "Oh, for goodness sake! Look!" She pointed to the lines on the page so that he could follow along. " 'Wit' gemstones of truth', dat's gotta be refferin' to de old tithes d'External gave to d'Guilds. De real ones was decorated wit jewels! And, de Assassins have always been 'rich', just look around you!" Bella waved her hand in the air, gesturing to the ornate study they stood in. "Iam going t'be one o' de guardians… one o' de parents."

"Got jus' one question." Gris-Gris asked. "Why Remy? Whuz so special 'bout him? You could get any man from de T'ieves Guild t'be de ot'er guardian, so –"

"Already told y'why!" She hissed. Her mouth then formed an overly confident and dangerous smirk. " 'Cause dis operation be **_all_** about **conquest**."

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**SNEAK PEEK:**

He moved his hands to rest behind his head, noticing the gold band on his finger gleam as it caught the sunlight. The past several months had been a blur, they happened so incredibly fast. Since the night that Rogue and Remy announced their engagement, they began immediately on wedding arrangements. The couple had originally planned a small and tasteful wedding, but the women of the mansion wouldn't hear of it.


	2. A Fall from Happiness

Hey, it's been a while! I'm sorry, I know I've officially pissed a few people off. I've just been busy with exams and other issues, I had to put the story on the backburner. But I'm back baby!... kinda. I have a solid outline for this story, and every so often I get ideas (how I'm going to word something, etc.) and I jott them down, but I no longer have any chapters pre-written. I've caught up to myself. Nevertheless, I promise you all that I shall work as dilligently as possible to get each installment out there ASAP.

Would it make you feel any better if I told you this chapter is soo worth it?

I decided to just skip the usual read-through that I do for editing because I fear that if I let this go any longer, I'm going to start recieving hate mail. Oh, and I have to appologize... in my previous story, I totally got the spelling of "chère/cher" and "chèrie/chéri" wrong. I'm gonna change it over in my future chapters.  
Just for the record, "cher" means "dear", and "chéri" means "darling". (that's the proper spelling, according to online translators)

Now for my usual shout-outs...  
**RogueishLeia**, yes, there is something tricky that will surprise you all... or a bunch of tricks. So remember, computers are our friends. And the first line is the type of style I'm really into (I love Zelda, and all of that), so this story is more than Romy fluff...oh it's so much more... **inTHEgrid**, I'm thinking of dying my hair blonde too...nah, just kidding! And it's good news to hear that you aren't turned off by sad stories (this chapter might make things a little clearer...or more confusing...depends on how you look at it). **Roguechere**, is this what you wanted? **Remy'sRose**, it's leading somewhere...either up, down, or side to side. Take your pick. And finally **cooltangarine**, your name makes me jealous. I mean, you have "cool" right in there. Why didn't I think of something like that. Anyways, keep reviewing!!!  
Prof. Horatio Hufnagel

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DISCLAIMER: You know the drill, it all pretty much belongs to Marvel ...I'm just the pupeteer (dance puppets, dance!)

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"Mmmffff" Gambit squeezed his eyes together in protest of the morning sun, whose rays were flooding into the bedroom. "_Too bright."_ He turned onto his left side, facing away from the window. Judging by the heat on his back, the curtains were drawn, giving him two options: either get up and close the curtains, or just plain get up. After weighing the possibilities, he opted to wake up but remain entangled in the warm and comfortable sheets…or possibly Rogue. Yes, she would be a much more beneficial alternative. 

Releasing a gruff, yet satisfying purr from the depths of his throat, he slid his arms and legs forward across the bed sheets in search of her silky smooth skin. Therefore he was understandably upset when he couldn't find her. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking to adjust to the brightness that consumed every square foot of the room. She wasn't there. He pouted and shifted on to his back. "_Pro'ly already up."_ He moved his hands to rest behind his head, noticing the gold band on his finger gleam as it caught the sunlight. The past several months had been a blur, they happened so incredibly fast. Since the night that Rogue and Remy announced their engagement, they began immediately on wedding arrangements. The couple had originally planned a small and tasteful wedding, but the women of the mansion wouldn't hear of it. And as soon as those ladies dug their nails into the 'project', they managed to orchestrate an elaborate ceremony and wedding party in just under three months! "_Miracle workers._" He reflected. " _'Specially Jean. De girl five months pregnant, 'n she still manage t'organize d'hell outta dat party…_"

**& Flashback & **

With the help of the friendly weather witch, the school grounds were covered in white flora, filling the air with the mixed smell of orchids and roses. White gossamer fabric was strung over a large tent frame that was erected behind the mansion, with liberal amounts left to hang down and flutter gently in the day's breeze. The tablecloths and seat slipcovers were a pale champaign colour, as was the icing on the four layered, decadent chocolate cake. Each folded napkin, each porcelain plate, each centerpiece; everything was planned right down to the last meticulous detail, and all that Remy LeBeau could stare at was her hauntingly beautiful emerald eyes that blinked at his complimenting ruby ones. And only one single thought kept playing through his mind: "_Dieu. Y'married, LeBeau. **Married!**"_ In the moments that he did, in fact, manage to pry his eyes from hers, he would become lost watching the few white tendrils of hair that hung down stylishly from her up-do move back and forth as they slow danced. Her bare arms were wrapped tightly around his neck and his hands were resting gently on the small of her back, as they rocked to the music from the live band.

"Dis be better den Remy imagine it." He thought aloud.

Rogue tilted her head to the left to look over his shoulder. She took in the fabulous decorations and happy couples that circled around the dance floor, minding the large train on her dress… the dress she finally got a chance to wear. "Yeah, the gals sure did make this an event tah remembah."

"Whu? Non… well _yes_, but Remy mean he always tought dat he be marryin' Belle. Instead, Remy got it way bett'r… he wonderin' how he deserve it, chéri."

"Ah wish yah would stop doin' that." Rogue removed one of her arms from around his neck and cupped his face in her hand, frowning. "Stop thinkin' y'ain't good enough, Remy LeBeau. Yah deserve the best in the world, an' Ah wish Ah could get y'all tah see that."

Her words touched him, and he couldn't help but give her a full view of his pearly whites. "Je t'aime, Anna."

His smile was contagious, and she found herself beaming back. "Ah'm certainly glad yah feel that way, or Ah'd be wonderin' what we're doin' here. Oh, and Remy?"

"Hmm?" Gambit raised his eyebrows, offering Rogue his undivided attention.

"Ah love yah too." She leaned in and pressed her lips into his. He reciprocated by angling his head to the right and softly deepening the kiss.

"Ahem."

Rogue felt the corner of Gambit's lips curl upwards in amusement, just before they broke apart and stared straight into the eyes of a terse and husky man, holding a perky Jubilee at arms length.

"Oui, Wolvie?" He knew that the Wolverine was never one for public displays of affection.

Logan made a face at Gambit, voicing his utter disgust at his elected nickname. "Listen pal, if you so much as _look_ at Rogue the wrong way, I'll be all over you like a lion on a rat. Got it?"

"Now Logan, that's certainly an odd way tah say 'Congratulations'." Rogue leaned over and pecked her father-figure on the cheek. She knew that his overprotective nature had gotten the best of him, and this little episode was all for show. If he truly detested and disproved of Gambit, then he wouldn't have offered to escort her down the aisle when her own mother refused. She knew better than anyone that the two had found friends in one another, whether they were willing to admit it or not.

His face relaxed a tad, and his voiced lowered to an irritated rumble. "Yeah, yeah, Congrats… more like 'deepest condolences'. Oh and Gumbo, do me a favour and save all o' that mushy kissing crap for later, eh bub?"

Gambit thought he may have imagined it at first, but then realized Wolverine _had_ actually flashed him a fleeting smirk. Sometimes it seemed that they had an unspoken understanding, that they were on good terms. But, _boy_ would hell be raised if either of them ever had to admit it. So naturally, Gambit did the one thing that had always constituted their relationship; he took a jab at Wolverine.

"Are… Are you _dancing_, mon ami?"

Logan's face fell, quickly twisting into a full-blown scowl. His cheeks flushed beet red, matching the brightly-coloured carnation stuffed into his lapel. He turned on his heels and stomped off in the direction of the buffet table.

"Great! Now I have to deal with _that_." Jubilee rolled her eyes and jerked her thumb over her shoulder, directing it towards the huffy, animalistic male. "Ah, well. When isn't he a grump? Oh my gosh, I'm sooohappy for you two!" She elevated herself on her tip-toes and wrapped her arms around both Rogue and Gambit's neck, pulling all three of them into a suffocating hug.

"Jubes… need… breathe…"

"Oh, right! Sorry." She let them go and smiled sheepishly, watching Gambit tug at the several bunches and creases that formed in his dress shirt and tux. "Well, have a wonderful time, guys! And thanks again for making me a bridesmaid. This is such a fab dress!" Jubilation ran her hand down her side, stopping at her hip. The silk gown was also a light Champaign hue, with thin straps and a v-cut neckline that formed as the material bunched together at the bust. "I'm gonna go find Storm and see if she can alter this into a top that I'll be able to wear clubbing."

Rogue shook her head as she watched the bubbly teen bounce out of sight. "An elegant dress-slash-shirt foah clubbin'? That gal is about to commit fashion suicide."

"You think _that's_ bad? You're just lucky I convinced her not to wear her yellow hoop earrings today." Jean ambled up to the couple with Scott by her side. "But I _wish_ that was the hardest fashion decision I had to make all day. While she's busy worrying if she can change that dress into a top, I'm hoping that I'll be able to alter mine into a size two, so that I can forget I ever had to wear a specially-tailored maternity bridesmaid gown!"

"Honey, it's really not as bad as you think. You look beautiful." Even as Scott fussed over his wife affectionately, Gambit and Rogue could see the perspiration on his forehead, and the fatigue in his eyes. He was trying to reach his arms around Jean's waist and hold her close, yet still keep enough distance as to not crush her stomach; not to mention his attempt to slow dance and make it look effortless, or feel the wrath of a hormonally imbalanced wife that currently weighed more than he, and could levitate practically any object imaginable.

Needless to say, he was failing miserably.

"Oh, you're just saying that to shut me up." Jean snapped.

Scott shot Gambit a pleading look, one of sheer desperation from a broken man. Gambit sighed and complied. Hell, he was in a good mood today, so why not help out his not-so-'fearless' leader? Besides, it would come in handy. Now he could blackmail Cyclops into getting out of early-morning Danger Room practices.

And who said that Remy wasn't a giving guy?

"Jean, you be de most gorgeous bridesmaid dere is tojour." He ran his pinky and ring finger through her red hair and lightly grazed the sensitive skin behind her ear, making her blush and giggle. "Now Scooter, on de oder hand, looks like he need a good sedative."

"Thanks." Scott grumbled, finally understanding the repercussions of asking Gambit for a favour. He began to lead his wife away before the Cajun could to do any more damage.

"Thank Yah, Jean, foah pullin' this wonderful reception togethah!" Rogue shouted out to the telepath as they moved to the opposite end of the dance floor.

"Any time!" Jean called back before she and Scott disappeared into a crowd of mutants.

Moments later, a strong hand clamped down on Remy's shoulder, and Jean-Luc stepped into view. "Excusez-moi, but may I cut in, s'il vous plait? I would like t'dance wit de bride."

With a courteous nod, Gambit passed Rogue's left hand to his father's, and stepped out to the side. Jean-Luc took the opportunity to wind his right arm behind her back and cup his left hand in hers, holding them out to the side.

"Dat be one beautiful engagement ring y'got dere, Rogue." He wiggled his eyebrows and began swaying her to and fro in time to the music.

"Oh that ol' thang. Ah'm just holdin' on tah that foah 'safe keepin'." She joked playfully.

Jean-Luc's smile widened. He turned to face his adopted son and elbowed him in the ribs. "Remy, I like dis one."

Gambit couldn't help but laugh at his father's good-natured humour. "Me too."

"Oh, dat reminds me!" Jean-Luc stopped dancing and reached into his tuxedo's breast pocket to pull out an unmarked envelope, and offered it to Rogue. "Just a lil' wedding gift fo' de bride and groom. Didn't tink it be a good idea t'leave dis out in de open wit all de oder gifts."

Rogue smiled appreciatively, and slipped her index finger under the fold of the envelope to lift the flap. Once she had it open, she slid her hand in and pulled out a cheque made out to Mr. and Mrs. LeBeau for…

"Oh mah Gaw– Jean-Luc, we appreciate yoah generosity, but we can't, in good conscience, accept all a' this money!" She extended her hand that held the cheque, waiting for him to honourably retract his gift.

Instead he stood there stubbornly, with arms folded across his chest. "Nuh-uh. Dat dere is t'get you started. An' it be bad luck f'you to return a wedding gift when y'still married, Anna. You should know dat by now."

"Père –" Remy argued.

"End o' discussion. We be family now, and dis is what family does for each oder."

"Speaking of family…" A wry voice interjected from next to Rogue. An attractive brunette with green eyes and a slender figure had suddenly appeared. Her skin was fair, and quite a few of her facial features reflected Rogue's, but she was glowering, and looked as if she would rather be anywhere but at that wedding.

"Oh! Jean-Luc, Ah'd like you tah meet mah adoptive mother, Raven Darkholm. Momma, this is Jean-Luc LeBeau, Remy's adoptive father."

Perhaps Jean-Luc didn't quite register that Mystique was _not happy_, or he thought he could lift her ill-spirit by courtship. Whatever the reason, he had a momentary lapse in judgement, and decided it to take her hand in his to kiss it.

"Achanté, mademoise-aaaaaaahhhhhh!"

As he kissed her hand, her dainty features and delicate body morphed into a robust male with a broad chest, that incidentally towered a good foot over everyone. He had a menacing stare that made Jean-Luc shrink back in panic.

"**Momma**! Be _nice_!" Rogue shot her mother a disproving glare, and watched as the frightening man diminished into a blue-skinned woman with red hair and yellow eyes (she was equally as intimidating, though).

"This is what she really looks lahk. And mah brother was the one that lead the ceremony. His name's Kurt. Th' blue guy with a tale, sweet as a button." Rogue continued the conversation, trying to ease Jean-Luc's anxiety. Although he was wonderful at masking his feelings, Rogue could tell he was still just a little bit shaken up.

"Rouge, I need to talk to you… _alone_." Mystique trudged on.

Jean-Luc took the hint this time. "I'll go find Henry and Merci. I know dey be around here somewhere. I tink dey were talking to Professor Xavier and dat really loud, Scottish fellow." He nodded his head to Mystique, lightly kissed Rogue on the cheek, patted Remy on the back, and turned to make his way into the crowd of mutants.

Rogue stared straight into her mother's yellow eyes, challenging her. "Whatever yah gotta say tah me, Momma, you can say in front of Remy."

"Fine." Raven sneered. She was actually going to like this conversation after all. She would much rather belittle her son-in-law in front of his face, opposed to behind his back. "Destiny had a vision, and he's going to betray you. He's no good for you, darling. He's a loser who's going to drag you down with him –"

"Raven, you're twisting things." Irene strode over to the group quite efficiently for a blind woman. "What I saw was a fight between the X-Men, and another unidentified party. He fought on your side, but the scene was interrupted by a female scream and a pair of burning red, evil eyes…"

"- and we all know that red eyes are so easy to come by." Mystique added dryly.

"Listen, Remy dunno what it means, but **I** would **_never_** hurt mon amour."

"Ah know Remy." Rogue placed her hand on his chest to calm his nerves. It was uncharacteristic of Gambit to start referring to himself in first person. "Momma, Ah appreciate yoah concern, but Ah trust Remy with mah life. And although you don' have to, Ah'd lahk y'all tah learn. Thanks Irene… foah the heads up."

Mystique released a frustrated huff of hot air and stormed off. Irene offered the couple a weak smile. "I'm sorry for Raven's inappropriate behaviour. She'll come around eventually. Enjoy the rest of your evening, and congratulations."

Once again, they were standing unaccompanied on the dance floor.

"Anna, y'know I woudn't –"

"Ah know, sugah." Rogue reinforced. She leaned her head down on Gambit's chest and closed her eyes, hoping that nothing else would upset their day together. It was _their_ day to be happy, after all.

…But apparently not their day to be left alone.

"Gambit! Yeh did it! Yer married!" Sean exclaimed as he slapped Gambit hard on the back. Gambit winced and jerked forwards, pushing Rogue out of her comfortable position on his chest.

"There's no out now, eh? And Lassie, how'd yeh manage teh tame the untamable? Well cheers ta both o' yeh!" He thrust his scotch on the rocks out in front of him, and it splashed out of the glass, lightly speckling Rogue's white gown.

"Cheers." Rogue sighed.

"Everything's so perfect! It's like a day in heaven. But, 'm not sure I understand yer taste in ice sculptures…"

"Ice sculptures?" Both Remy and Rogue asked in unison.

"Aye. Now, see, I can understand the cupid with the bow an' arrow, that one's a fine figure. An' I suppose the cherub urninatin' tis a matter o' taste, but the peni–"

"BOBBY!!!"

**& End Flashback &**

Gambit chuckled at the memory. That day was perfect. It was exactly what they needed; a nice, happy time to celebrate their love for one another… because it was already written in stone that their marriage wasn't going to be an easy walk in the park.

In actual fact, it had all started before the wedding. Two months after they announced they were to be married, it happened. But they would be damned if they were going to let the world fall apart around them. They carried on with their wedding with their heads held high.

Four months later, it happened again… and was worse.

Everyone in the mansion was ecstatic about the arrival of little Nathanial Summers, the first child born to two veteran X-Men. Of course, Gambit and Rogue were no exception, but they were dealing with hardships of their own, and the joyful energy circulating the school just seemed to be like rubbing their noses in their own pain. And Rogue… she dealt with it by turning on her cheerful facade. She buried it underneath all of her suppressed anger and fears, and shrugged it off with a smile. She hid it from her friends, and convinced Gambit, Beast and the Professor that it was best to say nothing, or risk ruining things for Scott and Jean.

For a while, they forgot. They busied themselves with everything newly married couples should do. They used some of the money that Jean-Luc had given them to buy a small house just off of the school's property, and rationed the rest. Xavier placed them on temporary fighting status while they looked for work elsewhere. Rogue settled comfortably as a part-time car mechanic, while Remy (strangely enough) found his bearings in an architectural firm that specialized in designing offices. The division that Remy headed would focus on improving security features for the building. It was a department in which Gambit 'coincidentally' excelled. They always returned to the mansion on a regular basis, and stayed over in Rogue's old room during holiday visits, or when they were called on late-night missions.

But after a year of marriage had come and gone, the problem resurfaced. It was almost like routine now, what with it happening three times, almost in a single year period. What's more, when they returned to the mansion for Nathan's first birthday party two months after the most recent incident, they told no one. Beast and Xavier asked them a question or two, but didn't pry. Jean sensed something was wrong, but she knew very well that it wasn't her place to use her telekinesis without her friends' consent.

So it went unacknowledged, the way Rogue liked it. It made it easier to deal with for her part.

That was four months ago.

Gambit heard some movement in the en suite bathroom. He should have figured that she was in there. He groaned and swung his legs over the end of the mattress, pushing himself onto his feet. Even though he was only wearing boxers, he didn't have the energy to dress just yet. Instead, he found his way to the other side of the bed, and sat down facing the bathroom door. He drove his hands through his hair in anger, frustration… you name it, he felt it. He felt so helpless… what could he _possibly_ do to make it alright? To make her feel alright? To make them both feel alright?

The bathroom door opened slowly to reveal Rogue in a navy satin teddy, leaning her weight into the doorframe. She looked tired, defeated.

"Poor cher." Gambit gently patted the mattress next to where he sat, gesturing for her to join him.

When she didn't move, he took a second look at her face. She was sickly white. The colour had completely drained from her face, and she looked dazed. His voice was more panicked the second time around.

"Chéri?... Rogue?"

No response.

"MARIE?!"

"Somethin's wrong." Rogue took a few staggering steps forward onto the plush carpet (which would be seen as a saving grace, in retrospect). Sadly, all Remy could do was watch in horror as his wife's eyes rolled up into her head, and she keeled over backwards…

* * *

**SNEAK PEEK:**

He only noticed he had reached daybreak when the sunlight reflected off of the Petri dish he was using, right into his eyes. That was when Beast finally decided to retire for the evening… well, morning.

And, of course, that was when he received a frightening call from Gambit.

* * *

**HEY YOU! YEAH YOU! I know you've added me to your Author/Story Alert List. I CAN SEE YOU in my user login stats page! So tell me what you think! Review! Was it good? Bad? Both? I'm dying to know!  
Besides, if it weren't for reviews, then how would we Fanfic writers get by?**


	3. Joined Minds Think Alike

HUZZAH! Another update! I can hear you all yelling, "It's about frickin' time!" Yes, yes, shame on me for making you wait for so long. And I think **Roguechere** is about to wring my neck. But I couldn't help it! This chapter gave me nothing but trouble. It wasn't turning out how I liked, and it was a complete and utter strain. It jsut so happened that **Dizi** gave me some fabulous advice about how to approach these hurdles. I started on the part that inspired me the most, and then worked backwards. I have to say that it made everything flow just _that much_ easier.

But I have some bad news... I see the next chapter (which I predict will be long in length/content) causing just as much, if not more trouble than this one. And, I'm going to be out of town for the entire March Break so there won't be any progression in the updates then.

//Dodging flying mousepads and keyboards that were aimed for my head//

I KNOW! I suck. But I hope this holds you over a little... It's my goal to try and get the next chapter up before March Break. I think I can, I think I can! Oh. And some more bad news. You won't be finding out what "it" is until a few chapters down the road (Don't kill me **Cooltangarine**). You'll get hints though! It was really interesting to see how everyone gravitated towards the same concept. Hmmm, well we'll see. Mwahahahahhaha!

**Blackagenda**, you were _fast_ to reply! Thank you soo much for the support! It made me proud to know that people took such an interest in this story. Please keep reviewing! **TrOuBLeDObSeSSioN**, you had some very good guesses. And you are _definately_ not slow...unfortunately I just can't reveal it all right now... you're stuck having to read on to see. Keep up the reviews! It's a challenge just to try and copy your pen name correctly... It KeEPs ME oN mY ToeS. **InTHEgrid**, I agree. Read it again, and again and again! Yay! Again, you also have some very good guesses, but I can't say more than that. We've already discussed the blond hair and late night snacking, but I gotta say I'm SOO happy you love my story! And every time you review, my heart warms up a tad and I think "Maybe I shouldn't be so hard on these protagonists." But unfortunately we relish in their pain. It's sadistic, really. **RogueishLeia**, I wasn't trying to kill you, but you almost did me... from a laugh attack! Omg you're too funny! And yes, I'm quite a trickster. Not a magician... or a wizard. I wish I were. But that's an entirely different fanfiction, so I won't go there. **Roguechere**, I wasn't pissed off, I was just so upset! I was like "NOO I lost a regular reader! I _must_ suck!" But apparently you're just as tricky as I am. Meanie! Hahah! Please don't kill me, you aren't gonna get answers just yet! Hang on they're coming! **RogueFreak**, I don't know... What do you think it is? Maybe it is, maybe it isn't? Does that help? No? Well, I tried. **Remy'sRose**, why on earth were you up so late? Ah, who am I kidding. I read one of your stories into the wee hours of the morning, I shouldn't talk. Fanfictions are sooooo addictive! **Cooltangarine**, in good time, in good time. **PeppermintLove**, teach me! Oh wise one that sprung from the egg of French and threw her tears from listening to my poor accent upwards, forming the sky... uhh, yeah. You know what I mean. Lemme put this in a way you'll understand. Me speaked no French agood. Help!

Onward and Out!  
Professor Horatio Hufnagel

* * *

DISCLAIMER: You know the drill, it all pretty much belongs to Marvel ...I'm just the pupeteer (dance puppets, dance!)

* * *

It was nearly lunchtime when a weary Hank McCoy returned to the X-mansion. As he opened the main door, the smell of eggs and sausages made his stomach jump and grumble. He hadn't eaten breakfast or gotten much sleep lately, for he stayed up most of the night working in the lab. It probably wasn't one of his most intelligible ideas, but once his mind was on the verge of a scientific breakthrough there was no way to slow him down. He only noticed he had reached daybreak when the sunlight streamed in from a small, rectangular window near the ceiling and reflected off of the Petri dish he was using, right into his eyes. That was when Beast finally decided to retire for the evening… well, morning. 

And, of course, that was when he received a frightening call from Gambit.

Acting with haste, he threw on his coat, grabbed his instrument kit and dashed to the elevator. He had picked up so much speed that he almost slammed into the closed elevator doors. He made use of every second by mentally alerting Jean of his whereabouts as the lift pulled him up to the main lobby. Then he had run out the door.

Yes, the smell of food was intoxicating, and the furry doctor was running on empty. A nice nutritious breakfast sounded good, but his priorities momentarily lay elsewhere. His job and friends preceded his stomach in ranking. Xavier would definitely care to know, and one other would need to be prepared.

Hank pulled his arms from his coat sleeves as he walked into the main foyer. Storm and Jean were sitting on the front lounge couches and chatting idly, whilst keeping an eye on Nathan. The brown-haired toddler, dressed in sweet little jean overalls and a red shirt, was quietly playing on the wood floor with a toy fire truck he had gotten for his birthday from Uncle Alex. Jean, who had been aware that the doctor had returned before he even stepped through the door, rushed through her last sentence with Storm and turned her body to face the blue man.

"You left really quickly, Hank. Is everything alright?"

Beast shifted his coat between his arms and placed his instrument case on the floor. "Oh, yes, quite. Nothing to worry about. It seems that Rogue neglected to eat dinner last night, and woke up hypoglycaemic. As a result, she felt weak and nearly fainted. My, we X-men battle villains for a righteous cause, and manage to chip away at the glass ceiling for mutants every day, but we all tend forget the power of a hungry stomach." His own grumbled in agreement.

"Even so, I have asked both her and Gambit to move back into the school, strictly as a temporary measure. That way I may monitor Rogue's blood sugar levels for a while, ensuring that this does not become a reoccurring incident."

Storm sighed in relief. "Oh, thank the goddess! You had us worried it was something severe."

"Quite the contrary. I apologize, Ororo, if I had you up in arms." He forced a feeble smile.

Jean raised a sceptical brow and began to question him mentally. "_Hank? –_"

"Jean, may I speak to you for a moment? I have a fascinating new asbestos sample that I wish for you to take a gander at."

She wasn't sure, but… had she just hit a sore spot with Beast? She didn't like the urgency his mind was projecting one bit. "Alright." She replied hesitantly. "Storm, could you watch Nathan for a moment?"

"Of course, it would be my pleasure."

There was a moment's delay between Jean's reply and when she stood from the couch. Something unnerved her… something she couldn't quite pinpoint. She had studied Storm's reaction carefully; being the Queen of Nature, Storm was instinctively perceptive of others' feelings and emotions. Yet this time she seemed unaffected. Apparently, Beast had actually reassured her and absolved any of her doubts. Now the weather goddess sat crouched on the floor with a carefree smile, laughing playfully with Nathan as she tickled the boy senseless.

Jean blinked and shrugged away her reservations. _"Geese, all those years as a telepath have made you a nervous wreck. Stop reading so much into things, it'll make you **crazy**."_

Jean waited for Beast to pick up his instrument kit from the floor, and then followed closely behind as he led the way to the elevator. They travelled down to the lower level where, even below ground, the mansion bustled with activity. The monstrous booms and crashes behind a pair of steel doors indicated that a heated Danger Room session was in progress. The door to the workout room stood ajar, displaying an assortment of chatting and body-building X-Men. Beast ushered her past all the commotion and prying eyes into his lab where he quickly shut the door. With a sigh of relief, he plopped down on the swivel chair behind his desk, and carefully placed his instrument case in front of him.

In an instant, her psyche erupted with images of Beast in that very laboratory, Beast working over a Petri dish, Beast answering the phone, Beast sprinting down the corridors…

She blinked to rid her mind of it all. She hadn't been snooping around his thoughts… not intentionally, that's for sure. "_I must be concentrating too hard._"

Willing herself not to pry, she stood before Beast with restraint and composure, focusing all of her self-control into her fidgeting hands behind her back.

"So, what type of sample –"

"Jean, you know better than I that we have not come down here to discuss or debate the insulating ability of asbestos."

Jean stopped. Her hands stopped. Her mouth stopped. Her heart stopped. And for a split second, _only_ a second, an extraordinary phenomenon transpired for this telepath… her mind stopped. Stopped. Just like that. She was stunned. He had been so secretive, and all of the sudden he became so brazen. He _had_ opened his mind to her. He _wanted_ her to understand.

"Should I be worried, Hank?"

Beast removed his spectacles and rubbed his strained eyelids with one hand's thumb and forefinger, allowing his head and shoulders to slump forwards. He gestured with his free hand for Jean to take a seat in one of the two chairs positioned across from him.

As she took her seat, she kept her eyes on Beast. He hadn't answered her.

"Hank?!" She pushed for an answer. But as soon as she did, she wished she hadn't. He looked up at her with those tired eyes that spoke of a million and one stories. She was positive that the last story, that last daunting one which bothered him so, would be the one she would regret hearing. She didn't need to be a telepath to see that his eyes spoke of trouble.

"I'm not sure." Was all he said. It wasn't a yes, it wasn't a no. But for a doctor to reply with such uncertainty … it might as well have been a yes. "I am about to disclose some medical information with you that may not be discussed with the others, except for the Professor and myself of course. I have persuaded Rogue and Gambit to let me share Rogue's physical condition with you for two reasons: One of which being that you are a telepath and would figure it out as soon as they returned to the mansion. The second rationale is that I believe you can be of great help, should you choose to accept the responsibility."

This time Jean had no need to hesitate. "Of course! If it means that I can help Rogue and Gambit, well then I will do anything I can."

At this, Beast managed a true smile. "Your friendship is truly a wonderful asset, and I'm sure it means a great deal to them."

"They would do the same for me. So how can I help?"

"It would be more conducive if…" Beast raised a finger to his temple.

"Oh! Right, sure. Just concentrate on what you wish to show me." Jean slid to the edge of her seat, her fingertips gently resting on each of her temples, and her eyelids hovering in a hooded state.

"Let me start at the beginning."

In an instant, a rush of images took shape behind her eyes. She had sight that was not her own, for an event she could not recognize. Yet as she opened herself to the prospect of reading Beast's mind, she could sift through the memories as if they were in an open file folder. She watched and listened to discussions between Beast, Xavier, Gambit and Rogue, extracting the information she needed. She fast forwarded some months later, where she concentrated on a few passing words between Rogue and Beast, Rogue and the Professor, Gambit and Beast. The most valuable of all was the concept of the passing of time. "_This isn't exactly new. They've known for a while."_

Beast guided her through his head to the most recent event. Once again, there was the sunlight, the Petri dish, the phone call...

…Beast bursting into the house, dashing up the flight of stairs to the master bedroom, stopping in front of Gambit cradling an ashen-white Rogue in his arms on the floor…

…Beast tilting Rogue's head back to open her airways, feeling for a pulse, laying her onto the bed and elevating her feet to guide the blood back to her head, waving smelling salts under her nose, watching her regain consciousness, speaking outside of the room to Gambit about what he suspected and how they could approach it…

Jean's eyes snapped open, and her hands fell to her lap as she gasped.

"They should be coming later this evening for tests. However Charles and I will be away on X-business. I hoped that by informing you, you could be there in case of an emergency until I return. I have a theory that it is easier for Rogue to fight it when she's conscious. She **_needs_** to stay conscious. As you could see, there are several methods to help a patient regain consciousness, but it may also help if you could telepathically nudge her into a more alert state."

Jean nodded, trying to digest everything he was saying, along with everything that she saw just moments before. Remy commonly had his mental shields up, but it would explain a lot of the distance that Jean detected in Rogue for the last little while.

"How serious is it?"

"I won't know for sure until I've run the tests." Here, Beast paused and looked down at his oversized, blue hands that were folded over his glasses. "As a friend, I can only hope for the best…"

A severe silence settled between the two colleagues, only to be broken as Beast raised his head to capture Jean's gaze.

"…but as a doctor, I fear the worst."

* * *

**SNEAK PEEK:**

So here's the last of the bad news. No sneak peak for the next chapter. WAIT! Before you send me hatemail and trash your computers, I can give you a little summary of what's to come.

Rogue and Gambit will return to the mansion and have a little tiff/arguement in front of everyone. What will all the other X-Men's reactions be? ... and Hank will return to administer some tests.

* * *

**HEY YOU! YEAH YOU! Tell me what you think! Review! Was it good? Bad? Both? I'm dying to know!  
Besides, if it weren't for reviews, then how would we Fanfic writers get by? I LOVE REVIEWS! And I love to hear from newcomers!**


	4. Stolen

I'M BACK BABY! YEAHH!! Okay, I'm gonna make this uber short because I really wanted to post this chapter tonight. I'm sorry for making you all wait so long, but I was sightseeing in Europe the entire break, so it was just a wee bit hard to update. But I'm back and raring to go (Unfortunately so is my workload… Meh, I'll learn to juggle it all)! I hope everyone had a wonderful break as well! Let me know (in your reviews, in a message, whatever) where you went or what you did! It's fun to share those stories.

Ok, So here's my extremely fast response to all of your awesome reviews that make me so happy. **InTHEgrid**, YAY! Smiles all around! And GIVE yourself that much credit because your reviews ARE that good! Jeesh, do I really have to spell it out for you? You R-O-C-K at reviews!!! Also, yes I did see the X-Men movies, I love them all. You're are right on the mark for guesses! I mean, for as much info as I've given you as of this date, you're getting sooooo close! **Roguechere**, I think I'm getting the shaft:O Noo! Ok, well does this chapter make you happy? If not, please don't send the hitmen after me! Just tell me what you want done and all do it, I promise! Oh, I want to live! **Remy'sRose**, Thank you, and DAMN! **Cooltangarine**, I hope the confusing is …good?! If it's just cause I'm holding out on you guys then yes, I know I piss a bunch of people off. But it has you coming back for more, right? **Blackagenda**, I did it! I updated! I updated!

Remember to review! The more reviews I get, the faster I tend to update!

Onward and Out!  
Professor Horatio Hufnagel

* * *

DISCLAIMER: You know the drill, it all pretty much belongs to Marvel ...I'm just the puppeteer (dance puppets, dance!)

* * *

No matter how long they had been gone, the mansion still seemed like home to her. Maybe it was because she had never known a safer environment, nor had she ever felt more comfortable with her powers anywhere else. Or maybe it had to do with the fact that a welcoming committee with ten or so of her closest friends were all waiting for them on the front steps. Quite obviously, she never felt more loved than she did at Charles Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters, and it made her heart sing. 

Rogue waved to everyone from the passenger seat of their red convertible, as she and Gambit cruised past the rod-iron gates and up the extended driveway. The car rolled to a gentle stop, and she flung the door open and ran to the crowd with open arms. Logan, Ororo, Jean, Scott, Bishop, Kurt, Jubilee, Kitty, Piotr, and Bobby; she made sure to hug each and every one of her family members; she missed them all so much.

"Hey kid, you'd think you hadn't seen us fer years." Logan commented as Rogue collided with the burly man's chest, nearly rocking him off of his feet.

Gambit killed the motor and fiddled with the keys to pull them from the ignition. He then jumped over the convertible's closed door and strode confidently over to his comrades, receiving a bombardment of gruff handshakes, slaps on the back, and hugs from the females.

Ororo lightly pecked him on his cheek. "Welcome back, big brother."

"The mansion just isn't the mansion without you two." Kitty piped up.

Whether it was her intension or not, she had just given Bobby Drake the opportune set-up he had been waiting for. "Yeah. Instead of listening to you both bicker back and forth, we actually have to pay attention to Cyclops when he talks."

It didn't come as a shock for Scott to hear sniggering, and it definitely wasn't uncommon for everyone to make jokes at his expense. Sure, he was often criticized for being too strict or too demanding, but the fact remained that no one else could do the job half as well as he does. It takes a conscientious and astute man to make a leader, even if it means laying down a few laws ('few' being a relative term). Anyway, he was learning to let each pot shot roll off his back. Who's to say that he doesn't have a sense of humour?

"Ha-_ha_. Now let's get your luggage inside so we can catch up over coffee. I know we all have things to fill you in on –"

"Likewise." Rogue smiled at Scott.

"Good. Then it's settled. Bobby, instead of _listening_ to me _talk_ about mansion business, -because I _know _how much you would hate _that_- why don't you help carry in the luggage?"

At that, everyone laughed.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I stepped right into that one…" Bobby snarled in contempt. He then lowered his voice and garbled bitterly. "Great, now Cyke is scoring off of me. Stupid, friggin' –"

Rogue followed on his heels, all the way to the trunk. But as Bobby yanked one of the navy cases from the car, he nearly fell face first onto the asphalt. "Man, what do you have in here, bricks? It's _really_ heavy!"

"Well, we _are_ temporarily movin' in, yah big baby. Here…"

Rogue reached across Bobby's midriff to grab the suitcase's plastic handle, pulling the luggage towards her with superhuman strength. But it didn't take long before a hand grabbed next to her own, trying to yank the suitcase away.

"Remy'll take it."

" S'all rahght, sugah, Ah got it." Rogue flashed Remy a quick smile and proceeded to step towards the mansion doors. Although her intentions were to keep on going, she didn't make it very far; the stubborn Cajun was still attached.

" 'Said dat Remy'd take de suitcase. Le' go."

Rogue stood for a moment. Slowly but surely, her jaw clenched and jutted forward, an overt warning that one would've most definitely recognized from the many years of living with the hot-tempered southerner. It was as plain as a red light flashing the word "Danger" in your face. Yet it seemed Remy had either missed that lesson or chose specifically to ignore it, because he clearly had no intension of backing down.

"Yah can't order meh around lahk that." She warned.

"Le' **go**."

"No." She argued indignantly. "Ah'm strongah than you are."

Rogue and Gambit had gotten themselves into a staring match, and neither one was prepared to give in. Her hand was itching to yank the luggage out from his grip. But just as her fingers stiffened around the handle preparing to pull, a high-pitched humming sound filled her ears. Suddenly it had all evolved into a risky game of 'Chicken'.

"You _wouldn't_ **_dare_**."

Neither moved, nor batted an eyelash. It was only when Rogue felt the blistering heat through her gloves that she decided to steal a glance downwards. The case was now shining bright shades of fuchsia and red.

She knew he would never hurt her, of course. That was what this whole dispute was about. But Rogue wouldn't put it past Gambit to push her out of harms way and take the full brunt of the blow himself, just to prove his point.

Rogue let out an exasperated sigh and relinquished control over the baggage, raising the white flag to Remy. Almost immediately the humming stopped and the blinding glow faded back into the original dark navy material.

No one was foolish enough to question Gambit as he angrily pushed past the crowd of X-Men, hauling the awkwardly heavy luggage inside.

* * *

"Gone! They stole everything!" 

Joseph gestured to the empty tables and chairs, the last few furnishings that remained standing in the particularly barren room.

Beast wheeled the Professor into the vacant space and blinked in disbelief. "Oh my." He then bent down and grabbed one end of a lone extension cord, holding it up so that the head with the prongs slumped over his large hand. "It seems that they did not take absolutely _everything_." When Joseph glared in his direction, Hank uneasily cleared his throat and set the cord back down on the floor, apologizing under his breath. "Too early, I suppose."

"You say that you stored all of your equipment down here?" The Professor asked.

"Everything from my Z'Nox equipment, to some of the Shi'Ar technology you lent me, sir. And, all the upstairs furniture in the house was left untouched."

Xavier released a mindful sigh. "Any thoughts as to who would require the aid of such powerful machinery?"

"No," Joseph stated simply, crossing his arms. "But maybe their motive was something different, something along the lines of revenge. If you ask me, only a professional _thief_ could have broken in so skilfully –"

"If you are implying that Gambit had something to do with this, then I am afraid you are severely mistaken. I know firsthand that when this robbery took place, he was with Rogue, and I highly doubt he would be so fickle as to rob you." Hank spoke tersely to Joseph. Although the man was more than capable, Beast couldn't see the present-day Gambit acting so rashly over water under the bridge. Even just thinking about accusing him disturbed Hank to the core.

Joseph shifted uneasily. "So… they're still together then?"

"Rogue and Gambit?" Xavier asked the question to which he already knew the answer. "Yes." His voice was soft and caring, considerate of Joseph's feelings.

When Beast spoke the second time, his voice was softer, too. "You've lost touch with us, Joseph –Well, aside from today. Your presence is always welcome at the mansion."

"And my offer for you to return to the X-Men still stands." Xavier added.

"Thank you both, but I'm fine right here. Truly, I am. I just… it's just that…" A short pause, then Joseph switched back to his reformed conversation voice. "I appreciate both of you taking the time out of your busy schedules to check this out for me. Please call if you have any leads. I'll show you to the front door."

Xavier looked up at him, searching for some trace of regret, anger, pain, _anything_. But Joseph had erected an emotional wall (not just a magnetic field) to shut out anyone and everyone, and the Professor was no exception. Xavier nodded once in recognition of the silence, and wheeled towards the door with Dr. Hank McCoy by his side. However, Charles couldn't bear to simply leave without trying to offer everything in his power; it just wasn't in his nature to do so. Glancing over his shoulder, he called out, "And maybe you will decide to come visit us soon? We are all looking forward to your visits in the near future."

"Professor?"

"Yes?" For this, Charles swivelled around to face Joseph.

"Rogue and Gambit …are they happy? Together?"

The Professor blinked and gave a sympathetic smile. He knew he would have to hurt Joseph. It was just the way things were. "Yes."

* * *

"Oh, **_REAL_** MATURE, MARIE!" 

"WELL WHAT THA HELL DO YAH EXPECT ME TAH DO? YA WON'T LISTEN!"

"AND THAT JUSTIFIES CALLIN' REMY NAMES?"

Kitty Pryde sat on the final step at the top of the stairs, hugging the banister, listening to the hate-filled words being passed between Gambit and Rogue. Their voices easily carried through the closed doors of their bedroom, and into the residence corridor.

"IT'S HUMILIATIN' FOR Y'ALL TAH TREAT ME LAHKE THAT, IN FRONT OF **_EVERYBODY,_** NONETHELESS! AH CAN TAKE CARE OF MAH SELF, YA KNOW!"

" 'PARENTLY NOT, CHERE! Y'BUSY LIFTIN' HEAVY SUITCASES AFTER HANK SAID NOT T' –"

"AH HAVE SUPER STRENGTH, FOAH GOODNESS SAKE!"

She was so wrapped up in the fight that Kitty jumped when Jubilee placed a hand on the young girl's shoulder.

"Hey Kit, it's just me." Jubilee knelt beside her.

"They've been fighting for over an hour now… I think this… this might be it."

Jubilee frowned. "What do you mean by 'it'?"

Kitty bit the inside of her cheek and muttered the following so quietly, it was a surprise Jubilee heard it at all. "You _know_… divorce."

She also wasn't prepared for Jubilee to outright laugh at the idea. "Them? Over? Nah, they're always like this. You obviously didn't live with them for very long. We told you that they started off hating each other, remember? And besides, it's healthy for married couples to fight –"

"DON'T **_BABY_** **_MEH_**!"

" 'WILL IF Y' **_STOP_** **_ACTIN' LIKE ONE_**!"

Jubilee and Kitty cringed at the particularly loud outburst from the room down the hall. " –so they must be really, _really_ healthy."

Just then, the girls heard someone bound up the stairs towards them. Jubilee scooted over, pressing herself against the banister as much as she could, in order to clear the way for Ororo. The goddess stopped at the top of the stairs and looked down at the two girls with apprehension.

"You both might want to clear out of here before a real fight breaks out. This is not going to be pretty." Once she slipped past them, she continued towards the quarrelling couple's room and rapped on the door. It opened a sliver, and Storm spoke towards the crack. "Rogue, you have a phone call. It's Mystique. She says it is urgent."

Rogue let out a defeated sigh. "Thanks Storm. Ah'll take it."

Rogue then closed the door and headed over to the phone that sat atop the nightstand, next to the bed. As she picked up the receiver, Gambit, who was leaning with his back against the window frame, moved over a foot and slid down into an armchair by the wall as noisily as possible. "Saved by de bell, eh chere?"

Rogue covered the mouthpiece with her hand to shush Gambit, and then let go to deal with her mother on the other end. "What is it, Mystique?"

Silence ensued for a moment or two, but then Rogue began picked up the conversation.

"Okay, so? …Ah– No!" Remy listened carefully to the broken conversation from his wife's end. "Yes Ah know for sure! …Couldn't have been him, he's been with meh all a' this tahm! Foah weeks! …Yes! …No! 'Course not! Ah'm sure! …Ah'm **_sure_**, momma!"

"Whuz dat all about?" Remy addressed Anna when she had said goodbye, placing the receiver back in the cradle.

"Irene's diary's been stolen…" Rogue's sentence trailed off into a big gap of silence in the conversation.

He knew that wasn't it. With Mystique, it was never that simple. There was always an accusation, with fingers pointing straight towards Remy. He raised his eyebrows towards his hairline. "…_And_?"

Rogue repositioned herself so that she was sitting on top of her hands to stop their fidgeting. "…_and_ she thought that maybe …you …took it."

There it was.

" –But yah heard Ah told her that was ludicrous! Ya've been with meh foah days!" She rushed to finish her sentence to calm Remy down. It didn't do much good, though. In a split second, the ragin' Cajun jumped up on his feet, walking the length of the room towards the door.

"Whuz dis, _'Rip on Remy' day_? 'M goin' for a drink."

Rogue eyed him with daggers. "But we're not done here yet!"

"Oh yes we are! F'r t'night, at least. Remy had it wit' arguin'."

"FAHN!" She fumed. Anna Marie hated losing power in conversations. She always needed to be in control. Her powers, combined with the upbringing that Mystique had instilled in her, always perpetuated this need. Actually, she and Remy were both very similar in personality; and that's why they butted heads more often than not. Plus, she knew that when he was stressed, he would take a ride on his motorcycle to calm himself and gain control of his nerves.

He was barely out the door before she yelled back at him, "AH HOPE YAH KNOW WE BROUGHT MAH CAR!"

* * *

Jean reached below Nathan's dressing table with one arm, her other arm pressing the toddler against her side to stop him from squirming. Realizing the shelf below was just as empty as the top, Jean repositioned Nathan on her hip and carried him out of his room into their adjourning bedroom. Scott was sitting up in bed, sifting through papers in a manila envelope. The bed was littered with files on Shi'Ar technology specs, and blueprints from Professor Xavier's old Z'Nox psi-shielding chamber. Jean cleared her throat to catch her husband's undivided attention. 

"Scott, could you run out to the store and pick up some diapers?"

He picked his head up from the sea of papers. "Right now?"

"It's kind of an emergency. Nathan needs a clean diaper –" Jean turned her head towards her son and repeatedly rubbed her nose against his, continuing to speak to him in a cutesy singy-songy voice, " –because we don't want Nathan to be a little stinky-poo, now do we?"

"Alright." Scott put his work aside and slid off the side of the bed, grabbed his car keys from his nightstand, and headed down the stairs of the boathouse towards the front door.

"Thank you, Scott! Nathan, say thank you to daddy!"

"Tanks dada!" Nathan called out of the room after his father.

Scott was just about to slide into the driver's seat of his car, when he had this inkling that something was different. He looked all around him, inspecting the entire driveway when it struck him.

"Okay, who stole my motorcycle?"

* * *

**SNEAK PEEK: (may be subject to change)**

"You shouldn't have to go through this alone."

It wasn't anything Rogue hadn't heard before. "Ah'm not. Ah have Remy."

"Yes, but ...I mean, maybe you need all of your friends' support at a time like this." Jean tried to clarify.

"Ah don't need tah feel lahk a walkin' disease! Gettin' special treatment an' pitty doesn't make it any easier."

* * *

**AWW C'MON! I gave you a SNEAK PEEK! Now you have to review! I tried sooo hard to be really nice this time, too! It's dialogue! That's the good stuff!**

**That's it. It's right there calling to you. Click it. Click the "review" button.**


	5. Kitchen of Blood and Broken Glass

Okay, here we are again! So because you all were SO AMAZING with your reviews (11 in one chapter, baby!), I decided to condence and merge the next two chapters together to make this one! WHOOOPIEE!

I know a lot of you have been waiting so anxiously, asking yourself "So where's all the action? Why haven't I reached any action yet? What do I have to do to cut through all this plot development nonsense, and get some exciting action around here!?" Well GUESS WHAT?!

...it's not here yet.

But don't worry, itsa coming! I think you'll be very pleased with this chapter. It's pumped full of angst and drama, suspense, and more of that plot development you love so very much. But I CAN tell you this... next chapter is going to be released _very_ soon if you all review quickly (let's try and beat 11, if possible). It's already a third complete. However, it's going to be comparably shorter than usual... Chapter 7 is gonna steal the show. It's going to be mind blowing! Now that's not to say that Chapter 6 isn't without it's charm. So hang in there, we're almost taking off!

Alright, so here's some short... and by short, I mean needlessly long... responses to the reviews that had me jumping up and down with joy!

**Naemis**, glad you like it! Hopefully, after all this time, the story still sparks your interest. **RogueishLea**, DON'T WORRY! It happens to the best of us! I'm not upset at all! Goodness knows how far behind I am in other people's stories. And it sucks that you couldn't go away, but there's always next year! You're gonna study hard and get into any college (in Canada, there's college and university) you want! Also, you'll have saved up some money, and be laughing all the way to Prague! Mwahahaha! **Blackagenda**, uhh... oops. I left you hanging... on a cliff... SORRY! Well, I _did_ update! Man, it's easy to get back in all of your good books! **Remy'sRose**, Riddle me this: A rooster sits atop a barn facing the East and lays an egg. Because the winds are blowing northwest, which way does the egg roll? **RogueFreak**, I think you would be the most entertaining person EVER if I gave you a cheerleading squad and some pompoms! WO! lol **Roguechere**, I AGREE! Love is soo complicated. By the way, they hug... i think it's...twice (???) in this chapter. So no matter how much we claim to hate it, you know that we love to love love! **XLebeaux**, SORRY! I know this wasn't very very very very very very soon, but maybe it was very very soon? **RedSmileyFace**, YAY YOU LIKED IT! Now my face is red and smiling! XD But seriously, I hope these chapters make the day a little less boring. **Hawaiichick**, I'm glad you liked it so much because you get some more! But don't worry, everything works out in the end... I think. **Cooltangarine**, that makes me so happy, you have no idea! I really love to know that my story has entertained so many people! **Iloveromys**, hey I never thought of it like that! Ooh, that's harsh, to think of it from a kid's perspective, but so true to the emotions, it's great. Does that make any sense, whatsoever? And no, you aren't a bad person, that was exactly my goal. I don't want people hating Joseph, I want them to understand him. He's a deeper character than just someone who's just standing in the way of our Romy. And for the record, I love the babbling! I like to think that it means you were really excited about what you just read!

On to the next chapter.  
Enough said.  
Professor Horatio Hufnagel

* * *

DISCLAIMER: You know the drill, it all pretty much belongs to Marvel ...I'm just the puppeteer (dance puppets, dance!)

* * *

It was true, the first day back was a lot harder than she thought it would be. In hindsight, she regretted wasting so much of her emotional energy fighting with Remy. It just wasn't worth it. 

For one, she had sat through their first meal back at the mansion without a spouse, and with no appetite. Rogue pushed the food around on her plate, phasing in and out of conversations that transpired around her. Not only was her stomach in knots about their falling out, but Rogue didn't know if she should wait for Gambit to return before starting the tests with Hank.

The tests. Just the _thought_ of them had sent waves of nausea throughout her body.

So did the results. Gambit had found her on the floor outside the med lab, arms snugly wrapped around her knees. When he didn't yell at Marie for starting without him, she knew he understood. Instead, he had simply slid down the wall beside her, took her hand in his and intertwined their fingers together. His actions spoke more than words ever could; whatever it was, they were in it together.

And it was a good thing, too, because they both squeezed the others' hand pretty tightly while Hank explained the need for Jean's presence. He insisted that she listen in on the results to offer 'moral support' – both Remy and Rogue knew that no good news ever needed moral support.

Everything seemed to go downhill from there. In what she referred to as her 'weaker moments', Rogue regretted keeping the whole situation a secret from the rest of the team. It was taxing to have to keep generating new, feasible excuses to explain her absences during missions or Danger Room sessions. Her life became one elaborate lie after another, and it was wearing her thin.

Nevertheless, she still couldn't bring herself to tell everyone. Whenever she was about to break down and _conveniently_ let it slip, she remembered a conversation that she had had with Jean just after Hank told them the outcome.

**& Flashback &**

"You shouldn't have to go through this alone."

It wasn't anything Rogue hadn't heard before. "Ah'm not. Ah have Remy."

"Yes, but... I mean, maybe you need all of your friends' support at a time like this." Jean tried to clarify.

"Ah don't need tah feel lahk a walkin' disease. Gettin' special treatment an' pitty doesn't make it any easier."

**& End Flashback &**

She remembered the conviction with which she spoke, and how her words were so definite. All her life, she was fighting to be alone. Just like with her mutancy, everything seemed to run more smoothly when she kept her distance. Isolation meant that she couldn't get hurt. Of course, it was inevitable; they would find out at one point or another. She just figured that the sooner she had to tell them, the sooner she would have to face the reality herself. But most importantly, if she didn't tell anyone, she wouldn't run the risk of hurting the others she cared so deeply for.

At least, that's what she initially thought. Really, it was unfair to ask Remy to bear the burden alone. After all, what do you do when the help needs help? It didn't take long to see the physical and emotional repercussions it had on him. He spent more time in the Danger Room working off the stress. The rush of adrenaline kept his mind and body alert… it was a great distraction. Soon, that didn't work either. He kept advancing to a higher difficulty, pushing his limits to dangerous levels.

The only beacon of hope was that Rogue's condition seemed to be improving, for she hadn't fainted in weeks. Maybe, _just maybe_, she would be able to turn their luck around – she would start with Remy.

* * *

No surprise, another late night of rifling through old documents and files for the Professor. 

Cyclops flipped on the light in the recreation room and made a beeline towards the back of the couch. Although he couldn't see it, he could imagine the warm and inviting suede cushions, the soft headrest calling to him…

Okay, it wasn't quite as idyllic as his ever-soft mattress or down-filled comforter and pillows, but Jean would have his head on a platter if he tried to sneak into the boathouse, especially after Nathan had gone to sleep. She made her point _pretty_ clear the first time when Scott stubbed his toe against the bed's panelling in the dark, and woke the dozing baby with a slew of, shall we say, profane language. Not only did he have to face his wife's scorn, but also a sleepless night of trying to ease the cranky child back to sleep… and by the time he succeeded, the sun was already up. Scott had absolutely no desire to relive it all, and that's why the couch sounded damn good.

He yanked the throw blanket off the back of the sofa and thrust it over to the front, nearly jumping a good foot into the air when Gambit suddenly sprung up from the other side.

"**Jeese**, you almost gave me a heart attack!" Scott snapped after finding his bearings.

"Sorry." Remy muttered, slumping back down on the couch, the cushion springs squeaking under his weight. He rubbed his fingers over his lids and blinked a few times in succession.

"I see… so now it's insomnia."

" 'Scusé moi?"

Scott lowered himself next to the worn man, angling his body so that they could meet eyes. "I'm the team leader, Gambit. It's my job to notice the new gashes and bruises you're collecting, or how the dial is always turned up high after you leave the Danger Room alone." He waited a moment for some sort of retort, but when Gambit didn't reply, Cyclops continued the only way he knew how. "You would think that with all the extra training you'd make some headway, but your performance has drastically suffered... you're all over the place, you can't seem to focus -"

"Yeah, Remy got it."

"- and now you aren't sleeping? I can't guess, so why don't you just tell me what's wrong?"

Gambit seemed to be struggling with a few emotions; he looked like he was about to either punch Scott right between the eyes, or oddly enough, burst into tears. Even still, _nothing_ could have prepared Cyclops for what was to follow.

"D'you tink…" He reclined backwards, staring at the stucco ceiling finish. "Y' deal wit dis every day as de team leader, o' course, but dat's not personal, right?"

Cyclops frowned slightly. "Sorry, I don't follow."

"D'you tink y' could give a life t' save anudder?" He gave no time for a response, but only sat upright before rambling on. "Sure, y' were forced into it wit Phoenix, but if you had t' choose to do it again, couldja? To save th'team?"

Scott didn't like the direction this conversation was heading, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat multiple times before answering. "Well, I don't know… I suppose… I would try to find another way… I would speak to the team and –"

"What about y' dad? Or your brudd'r Alex?

"I don't see how this –"

"Wouldj' kill your wife t'save dem?"

"_What_?!"

" – or your son?"

"STOP! What **the** **hell** is _**wrong**_ with you, LeBeau?!"

Gambit lowered his head, tufts of hair covering his burning eyes. "A lot." He murmured before rising to his feet and exiting the rec room.

* * *

"Where were you? I waited up until a quarter-past one for you to come to bed." Jean lifted a spoonful of mashed potatoes in the air and spiralled it towards her fussy son's mouth. He shook his head in protest and pushed the eating utensil away with the palm of his hand. Just over seventeen months, the near-toddler had already developed a finicky palette of food preferences, and a temperament to match. 

Cyclops stood in the doorway and watched with mild interest. "Working for Charles, and then I didn't want to disturb you. But you'll never guess, I had the strangest conversation with Gambit last night."

"Oh?" Jean suddenly sat straight in her chair and retracted the spoon slightly, keeping her eyes fixated on Nathan.

"He couldn't sleep, and so I confronted him about his poor performance lately."

"Mhmm." The corner of Jean's mouth pulled down disapprovingly. Knowing just how passionate her husband could get about his work, and how self-righteous Remy could be, she was already predicting a catastrophe in the making. "And?"

"He asked me if I would kill you or Nathan to save the rest of the X-Men."

Jean placed the spoon on the table and locked eyes with her husband, worry written all over her face. "What did you say?"

"Don't you find that just a little bit odd?"

"What did you _say_?"

"Well... I sort of yelled at him."

"Scott!" Jean scolded.

Cyclops raised his hands in the air. "Hey, in my defence, that's a pretty horrible thing to even joke about!"

Jean let out a long sigh. "It wasn't a joke. He must be going through some very hard times right now, and we have to support him. If you couldn't tell, he's under a lot of stress."

Scott narrowed his eyes at Jean. "You know something."

Jean didn't answer.

"There's something you're not telling me! I'm your husband, Jean! _And_ the team leader, who has –"

" –absolutely no right to be nosing around in Rogue and Gambit's business, unless they specifically ask you to."

"So why'd they tell you before me?" He asked indignantly.

"_Because_ I'm a psychic, and I would have found out eventually, anyways." She then tried to suppress a rising smirk. "And you aren't always the most compassionate when presented with sensitive situations."

"I can be compassionate!" Cyclops said huffily.

Jean giggled. "Like you are right now? Listen, this is an extremely hard time for both of them. What's happening with Rogue… it's very serious. Hank, Charles and I are collectively trying to persuade her to tell everyone, but until she chooses to, it's their private business and you need to respect that."

Scott nodded his head and stuffed his hands in his pant pockets. He really felt like a jerk now. He never meant to be hostile, and if he had known the situation before hand, he definitely wouldn't have acted so rash.

"Hold on a second. So, Gambit doesn't want to keep it all so secretive?'

Jean shook her head. "It's eating him alive."

Scott gave a sad and defeated scoff. "Anyone could see that."

* * *

Rogue looked at Gambit; he looked drained. The puffy bags under his eyes, his listless expression, and… Was it just her, or had he accumulated a new bruise or two? 

This whole thing was eating him alive.

He was getting progressively worse, especially now that he stopped coming to bed - she highly suspected that he had stopped sleeping, altogether. What was even worse, he kept following her everywhere, nervous that something would happen and no one would be around to help. Not only was it thoroughly frustrating when she wanted a moment to herself, but she hated seeing him so stressed out. He was living on edge, with his stomach in his chest, and she had to do _something_ to help him ease up.

Rogue firmly gripped his hand, leading him outside onto the mansion grounds, where they were immediately accosted with sunlight. Remy slipped his free hand into his pocket and pulled out a pair of sunglasses for his sensitive eyes.

"So bright." He moaned, hoping that Rogue would reconsider her sunbathing plans for the day.

Rogue chuckled softly. "That's the idea of bein' outdoors, sugah."

She guided him to a pair of plastic lounge chairs, just feet away from the basketball court. After making sure that they faced right at the sun, she chose the recliner on the left and yanked a reluctant Gambit down onto the chair on the right.

"Y' shouldn't be out here too long, chere. Y'll get heat stroke."

"Don' worry so much." She broke conversation for a second to wave to Wolverine, who had just stepped onto the basketball court. "Ah got mah wristwatch. Y'all just relax an' rest in the sun." She then ran her fingers through his mane of hair, gently massaging his scalp.

He let out a meek simper in protest, but finally gave in and lay back. Even through his shades, the sun was intolerably bright. He felt his eyelids flutter against his will…

* * *

Rogue placed her romance novel down on her knee and pressed her back into the chair, trying to get a better view of Gambit's face behind his glasses. It was hard to tell, but she thought she saw his eyelashes casting a shadow against his cheek. His breathing had slowed, chest rising and falling in a rhythmical pattern. She smiled. He was asleep. 

She looked out over to the basketball court where Wolverine had originally been shooting hoops. Other wandering X-Men had sporadically joined in, until the game had developed into a heated four-on-four competition. The two teams were playfully shouting and laughing as they fought for the ball. "_Remy's sleepin' through all a' their commotion? He must be out cold._" Rogue mused to herself as she watched the game from the best seats in the house.

"Storm, I'm open!"

Ororo launched the ball over to Bobby, who began dribbling it to the opposite team's net. Logan intercepted him mid-dribble and redirected the ball back the other way. But only a few paces ahead, he heard cracking from under his feet, and was forced to toss the ball into the air before falling butt-first onto the ice. "Jubes, catch –"

Jubilee caught the ball, but was completely surrounded by members of the opposing team. In a split-second decision, she yelled out "Kitty, heads up!" Instead of making a break for it, she shot sparks in her opponent's faces and threw the ball to Katherine.

Shadowcat caught the ball a ways away from the entire spark-induced furore, and took a moment to assess her position. Ororo, Kurt and Bobby were fighting to regain sight in the middle of the court, and their net was left relatively open. Now all she had to do was get past the stronger, larger, all around big guy Bishop. "_Oh boy_." Calling upon a little faith in herself, she charged towards him and passed right through his sturdy body. However, she hadn't accounted for some much needed braking space and barely stopped short of Nightrcrawler, who was now waiting for her on the other side. She was able to duck a swipe from Kurt, but didn't guard her back. His tail approached from behind and wrapped around the ball, yanking it out from her grip.

With a sudden _Bamf!_, all that remained of the blue X-Man was the lingering odour of brimstone. Kurt materialized on the opposite end of the court, preparing to do a lay-up and score in the other team's net. He would have succeeded, too, if a silver, metal fist hadn't collided with his head in mid-air, skewing his aim. The ball bounced off the hoop, rebounded on the asphalt and dribbled onto the grass.

"FOUL!" Bobby shouted angrily. "That's a foul!"

"No it wasn't." Jubilation crossed her arms over her chest.

"Yuh-HUH! Piotr hit Kurt over the head! We clearly stated the rules at the beginning of the game: NO direct or indirect physical abuse!"

"And yer always one to follow the rules, right Popsicle?" Logan brushed off his damp butt, and picked off a few black pebbles that were stuck to his hand.

Colossus offered his hand to Nightcrawler, and lifted him to his feet. "Maybe ve need a referee?"

"Good idea." Bishop squinted in the light as he looked across the field. "Hey Rogue! _Rogue_! Come over here!"

Rogue smiled at her friends and turned to assess Gambit; he was still asleep, shades gently sliding off the bridge of his nose. Making as little noise as possible, she slithered down the length of the lawn chair and crept away. When she reached the edge of the court, she bent down and scooped up the basketball, playfully tossing it from one hand to the other. "What's up, guys n' gals? Can't play fair?"

"We need you to watch and tell us if Bobby decides to cheat again." Jubilee sneered, and stuck her tongue out at Iceman.

"Or perhaps you would like to join us?" Ororo offered. "Our team does need the extra talent."

"Alraght, since y'all asked nicely… Ah'm in."

Bobby's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. "What?! Are you kidding? Storm, she'll cream us!"

"She would be on _your_ team."

"Oh, well in that case –"

"See, it's only okay if it benefits _you_, you rotten little –"

Amidst all the banter, no one seemed to notice that Rogue hadn't made one single move towards the court. Instead, she was glaring angrily at Remy, who's hand was fastened around her forearm. "Let me go. Ah wanna play." Her words were cross.

"Don't make Gambit go trough dis again. Y' won't win." Gambit tried to pull her back to the chairs, but Rogue firmly held her ground.

"Ah'm _going_ to _play_." By now, the cross talk had faded and all eyes were on the disputing couple.

"Alright. No powers." Gambit addressed the rest of the X-Men. "Dat goes f'r all of you."

"What?" Everyone began to argue in unison… and fell completely silent with an irritated glare from Gambit.

"No ice, no rain, no claws, no sparks –"

"–no _fun_…" Bobby rolled his eyes.

"Don't go ruinin' their tahm. Ah wanna play with them, and if they're playin' with powers, then Ah guess _**Ah'm**_ playin' with powers!"

"Y' tink dat's really a good idea, cher?"

"Why don' yah ever let me try it TAH **FIND** _**OUT**_?!"

"OH DAT'S RICH, DAT'S REALLY **RICH**! MAKE **REMY** OUT T'BE DE BAD GUY! _**I'M**_ DE ONE DOING DIS TO YOU, RIGHT?"

"No, _**YOAH**_ THA ONE THAT'S SMOTHERIN MEH!"

"Hey guys, it's just a game…"

"SORRY DAT REMY DON' WANNA SEE Y' HURT! 'M ONLY WORRIED **SICK** BOUT Y'!"

"YOAH TAKIN' AWAY MAH ROOM TAH BREATHE! **BACK** _**OFF**_!"

Everyone winced at her words, except for Remy. His face was deadpan, totally emotionless. The 'king of the bluff' built up his guard to hide from the public, and even Rogue took notice. Her stern eyes faltered when she realized how harsh her words must have sounded. But it was too late – they were the final blow that hit Gambit squarely in the chest.

"Fine. 'Cuz you're so strong, Anna Marie. Y'r strong, and y' can take care of y'self, right? Den, why don't you tell dem whuz wrong wit y'? Go on, **tell** **dem**!"

She silently shook her head, sending welled-up tears that pooled in her eyes streaking across her face.

"Dat's what Remy tought." He said coolly, then turned his back to Rogue and began walking to the mansion alone.

Bobby never really cared for the smug Cajun. That slime ball had always mistreated Rogue, what with his crude remarks and sexual innuendos. And after seeing the pain Gambit just caused his best friend, Bobby felt an inexplicable urge to set him in his place.

"Gambit, you asshole, do us all a favour and lay off her a bit, wouldja?! You're acting like she's dying! Lighten up!"

Even from behind, everyone could tell that Bobby struck a nerve. Gambit's shoulders tensed up, and he stopped dead in his tracks. Didn't move. Didn't speak. He just stood there.

Rogue, on the other hand, rounded on Bobby and furiously bellowed "AH'M NOT GONNA DIE!" She then turned again to face Gambit's back. "REMY, SUGAH, AH'M NOT!" She sprinted after him and wrapped her arms around Gambit, tears pouring down her stained cheeks.

Even though the rest of the audience stood stunned, the silence was short-lived. Logan was the first to actually verbalize what they were all thinking. "Okay, what the _fuck_ was that?"

* * *

For such a large space, the kitchen seemed a lot smaller with so many people packed in it. That night, after dinner, almost everybody seemed to be interested in taking on a clean-up chore so they didn't have to sit in uncomfortable silence. 

Instead, they chose to busy themselves in uncomfortable silence.

Jean collected dirty plates from the dining hall using her telekinesis, and had Kurt teleport them into the working corner of the kitchen. From there, Logan used his claws to scrape off excess food into the garbage and piled all the dishes next to the sink. Ororo took on the chore of washing the dishes and handed them to Rogue for drying. Jubilee returned everything to its appropriate cupboard or drawer on the other side of the counter, taking care not to bump into Remy, whose job was to return all cooking ingredients to the pantries and fridge. Kitty wiped down the table and counters with a damp cloth as Bishop dried, and Piotr swept the floor.

It was like an assembly line, but all you could hear was the shuffling of feet, clanking of dishes, and the dull roar of water in the sink. No one spoke.

Jubilee was casually leaning against the partition counter, examining the last fork in her hand for water marks. Suddenly, it dawned on her that she hadn't received anything new to put away for quite some time. She looked up at Rogue, who was holding a stack of sopping wet bowls and staring off into space. Jubilee waited for a moment, fiddling and with the prongs of the fork. When Rogue hadn't picked up her dish towel in over half a minute, Jubilee decided to speak up.

"Rogue, you're dripping all over the floor."

Still, Rogue didn't move.

"Rogue?" Jubilee watched a lone drop of water trickle down the Southerner's arm.

"Rogue!"

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. People turned around in time to see Rogue drop the stack of bowls onto the floor, where they crashed and shattered. Shards of glass shot in every direction and water spread across the tiles, all before she collapsed on top of the mess, banging her head against the hard ground.

Gambit propelled himself over the counter and landed with a crunch right next to her unconscious body. He scooped Rogue up in his arms and screamed for Jean, then bolted out of the room. All eyes followed Jean and Hank as they skidded around the corner, passed through the kitchen and clamoured out into the hall, where they ran in the direction of the med lab.

To claim that everyone was shocked, standing there with mouths agape, would be an understatement.

Storm felt the water on the floor lick her feet. She looked down and gasped, backing into the corner with eyes bulging wide, and a hand over her mouth. "It… it _cannot_ be! She's not supposed to…"

The rest of the X-Men gathered round to gawk at the floor, where bright crimson blood mixed with water, swelling and swirling across the tiles.

* * *

**SNEAK PEEK:**

Out of the blue, a red button on the intercom near the light switch began blinking.

"Someone's at the door." Jubilee stated, looking to her fellow X-Men to see if they knew who it might be.

Kurt furrowed his brow. "But how? How could zey get through zee gate? No von buzzed zem in!"

* * *

**I was SOOO happy with all the reviews I got last time, THANK YOU SO MUCH! Let's keep 'em coming! This chappy was jam-packed with goodies you could talk about.**

**Press the review button. Yep, right there. Yah, you see it. Go on, press it!**


	6. It Was Fate

First thing's first, my sincerest apologies. I know I said soon, and then I took ages to update. But apparently, teachers just don't think that writing fan fictions are as important as schoolwork. Shows what they know!

Anyways, it's late for me and I'm tired of typing, so I'll cut right to the chase.

I am totally jumping for joy now. I've made it to the fun stuff. The really awesomely crazy stuff. I told you that you're going to find out what's wrong with Rogue in chapter seven, and by golly I always keep my word. That just means that the chapter is going to be severely long, and is going to take some time. It's exciting though, so it might actually take less time because I'll probably get really into it. I don't know, we'll have to see.

I also apologize ahead of time for my late night ramblings:

**Blackagenda**, this was asap… nearly 1am here. I want to go to bed, you slave driver! Lol joking! **Remy'sRose**, is there a way to drive you sanely? If so, let me know. **xLebeaux**, you're crazy. No not really… I haven't explained that very well yet. Chapter seven!!! Hold your breath! …And thank you. **Roguechere**, I wouldn't call the X-Men dese per say, maybe just slow. Or dense. Dense works, too. No, they just don't know what's going on. Rogue fainting was the first they ever really heard about the situation. And what a way to find out. About that scary conversation with Scott/Gambit, that's also explained next chapter. **TrOuBLeDObSeSSioN**, I don't try and confuse you intentionally… well, maybe just a bit. Next chapter should clear it all up. But you know what's really confusing? Trying to figure out which letters to capitalize in your name. I did it about 3 times, got it all wrong. I'm sorry  **Naemis**, thank you, and you will very soon. **RogueFreak**, I don't know! What's going to happen? Feeling compelled to read? GOOD! Oh and, time and place? We should forget the cheerleading… it wouldn't do your energy justice. Maybe we should propose a race around the world in 100 days or so? Much more to "our" scale, don'tcha think? **RedSmileyFace**, poor you! You thought you find out the answers this chapter? No sorry next one. But this one's good too, I promise! Please keep smiling! **RogueishLeia**, YAY! You like my title! Thank you! I actually put effort into the titles too! Like "The Fall From Happiness" being about Rogue's fall/collapse, teehee I try and make them clever… key word, try. Thank you so much for such a beautiful review, and YES I'm so happy to hear you're back with the X-Men Fics! It was getting boring never having a nice RogueishLeia X-Men 'fic to promote… or to read. The story sounds like it will be great already, and I don't even know what it's about! Can't wait to see what you and Counterfeating Shakespeare do! It will be awesome, no doubt in my mind. Hurry up so I can start shamelessly promoting your work! **Cooltangarine**, glad you liked the game, I had to sneak it in... the basketball court was always in the original comics, and it was just nagging me at the back of my mind. It was such a fun transition into something so upsetting. Well, there's a happy thought… **Hawaiichick**, Thank you for enjoying my writing! I aim to please! And this teaser is especially, uhhh… teasey???? **Iloveromys**, if you could express your appreciation in one word, then I should be able to, too, right? Here it is… THANKYOUSOMUCHANDNOWORRIESILOVEREVIEWSNOMATTERTHELENGTH!!!! What? That's one word! IT IS, I swear!

Also, special thanks to **Crazy** **109**, **Jess** **Way**, and **rook**, who recently commented on "An Illusive Truth: Part1"

Onward and Out  
Prof. Horatio Hufnagel (the "Prof." stands for "Profoundly crazy")

* * *

DISCLAIMER: You know the drill, it all pretty much belongs to Marvel ...I'm just the puppeteer (dance puppets, dance!)

* * *

Scott ruffled Nathan's hair as the young child tried to shove his entire fist in his mouth. He struggled to no avail, gave up, and wiped his pudgy hand -- excess saliva and all -- on his father's clean shirt and slacks. 

Several of the X-Men chuckled, Scott included. Everyone really appreciated having the kid there to break the tension, especially since he had been their only form of entertainment for a while. Scott, Logan, Ororo, Kurt, Bobby, Piotr, Bishop, Kitty, and Jubilee all sat in the recreation room down the hall from the med lab, waiting nervously for some sort of word from Jean, Hank, Remy or the Professor. After the entire chaotic ordeal, Jean had only emerged once to let everyone know that Rogue was still breathing. She was alive… that's all they knew.

They spent the first half hour trying to remember any recent arguments the couple might have had recently, hoping to uncover a clue as to what was going on. When they came up with nothing, they resigned to sitting restlessly, waiting for the next update.

Out of the blue, a red button on the intercom near the light switch began blinking.

"Someone's at the door." Jubilee stated, looking to her fellow X-Men to see if they knew who it might be.

Kurt furrowed his brow. "But how? How could zey get through zee gate? No von buzzed zem in!"

"…Unless they already knew the code." Scott offered.

Ororo frowned. "But who do we know that would visit at this time of night?"

"I dunno," Logan balled his fists and stuck out his claws, "but I'm ready to find out."

Bishop rolled his eyes at the overexcited X-Man. "_I'll_ go. That way we won't have to deal with a girl guide that was mistaken for a piñata." He rose from the couch and promptly left the room.

"Remind me later to sharpen my blades on that one's –"

"That is enough, Logan." Storm warned.

Wolverine growled and retracted his claws. "Thanks, 'Ro. Not like you're picking sides or anything."

* * *

"Joseph? What are _you_ doing here?" Bishop stepped aside to let the former X-Man through the front door. 

"I've called Rogue seven times over this past week, and not _once_ has she answered the phone. I decided to drop by her house, but the place was dark. So, I figured this would be the next best place to look for answers…"

Bishop raised his eyebrows, stretching the tattooed 'M' further up his face. "No one told you? She and Gambit moved back into the mansion weeks ago."

Joseph narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. "_No_, it seems that no one thought of informing me."

Bishop gave Joseph what he thought was a respectably long moment to brood in pent-up anger, then folded his arms and shrugged it off. "Well, you're here now. Might as well come in, I guess."

"It's too quiet. Where is everyone?"

"Oh, yeah. Not actually sure I'm the best one to tell ya… just follow me."

* * *

He squeezed his fingers against the rough cloth that was loosely wrapped around his palm. The bandaging really wasn't necessary; he had argued with Jean that most of the cuts were superficial, while only a few slivers of glass had been lodged deeper inside – and Hank had managed to fish those out, anyway. Yet, she insisted that he wear it until there was no risk of infection. 

Presently, the extra bulk was itchy, and was making his hand sweat. Gambit looked up at the sleeping Rogue from a rickety metal chair he had pulled next to her med lab bed. What he really wanted was to take off the bandage; let the cuts, the lies, everything air out in the open… maybe then the pain would stop hurting as much.

His thoughts were interrupted when Rogue's eyes fluttered open, those brilliant emerald jewels staring back at his own ruby ones.

"Hiya."

"Hey chérie." He scooted his chair closer to her bedside. "Y' scared us good."

Rogue grimaced over a guilty smile. "Ah know, Ah'm sorry." She breathed.

"Hank took care of y'. Notin' happened dis time, 'cept f'r a few scratches and a nasty bump on de back of your head. Surprised y' didn't get no concussion, actually."

She saw that he was trying to keep a straight face as he spoke, not let it show how perturbed he was, but Rogue had known Remy way too long to overlook one of his fronts.

He rushed on, shying away from her troubled stare. "Y' were sleepin' f'r a bit. Hank and de Professor been lookin' over y' charts 'n readings… And Jean went out t' tell everyone y' gunna be okay, but hasn't said notin' you wouldn't want said in de first place."

She reached out to touch him gingerly on his bandaged hand. "Ah'm gonna tell them." She then centered her head on her pillow so that she was staring up at the ceiling. "Guess Ah thought that if Ah din' say anything then it would be easier tah deal with… Ah could pretend that we didn't get stuck with the raw end of the deal… That everythin's _normal_, lahk it should be. Nothin's ever easy foah us, Rems. This shouldn't be such a horrible thing –"

"M' know, Roguey." Gambit placed his free, less battered hand on top of hers. "But de X-Men want t'help."

As if on cue (how curious that he always was), the Professor wheeled back into the room and up to the foot of the bed, followed by an equally concerned-looking Beast.

"Nice to see you with us, Rogue… Although I suspected as much… that your strong will would pull you through, as always." The Professor's voice was a bit unsteady and more gentle than usual, but it still rang with the same steadfast courage that so frequently labelled him as the 'emotional rock' – always stable, always reliable, and always ready to hold form under the weight of immense pressure. "You have an extremely anxious crowd gathering outside, waiting to see you. Are you up to meeting with them, just for a brief minute or two?"

She nodded once, already wrestling with her pillow to prop it up behind her back.

"And… if you don't mind me saying…" Charles was struggling with his own reproving conscience, aware that a lecture was probably the _last_ thing the girl needed to hear when recovering in a medical bed. "…I think it's time you told your team mates. I know this situation is anything but pleasant for you, however they genuinely care for you. They ought to know what's wrong -"

"Ah was jus' thinkin' tha same thing. No more dramatics. Although…" Rogue covered her mouth as she yawned. "…Could it wait till the mornin?"

The Professor smiled, a huge weight lifted off his chest. "Of course."

* * *

One by one, people filed in from the hall, smiles plastered over their worried faces. Each one offered a drawn out, uneasy greeting to Rogue as they swarmed her bed. Some said 'hey', while others chose the longer, more daring combination of 'Hi, Rogue'. And some said nothing, taken aback by the long intravenous tube running into her once-impenetrable arm. 

Gambit's face fell when he saw Joseph meander in. He pulled Bishop down to his level by the scruff of the man's collar. "What is _he_ doing here?"

Bishop watched the exchange of poisonous stares between Gambit and Joseph with light amusement. "Ohhh, just making our evening all the more memorable."

"Hey kid, how ya feelin?" Wolverine squatted on the side of the bed, minding not to sit on her body that was sheathed under layers of bed linen.

"Better than before."

Logan patted her legs. "Good. Then you won't not mind me askin' what the **hell** **happened**?! Chuck? Furball? _Somebody_ wanna fill us in anytime soon?!"

Her friends nodded furiously in agreement until Bobby chimed in. "Yeah! And next time you decide to collapse on us, could you at least not leave a huge mess to clean up?!"

"**Why** on _**earth**_ were you bleeding? I thought you couldn't…" Ororo's eyes darted nervously to the drip intravenous rigged beside the bed.

There was a rush of conversation, causing everyone's words to be muddled together.

"**Please!**" Beast yelled over the commotion, holding up his large hand to silence the room. He then lowered his arm and shifted to a more amenable tone. "My friends, Rogue has not yet recovered to her normal stamina. She will be more than willing to answer all your questions _after_ a full night's rest."

Rogue looked up at Hank with tired gratitude written all over her face.

"Sorry." Logan muttered. "We're just worried 'bout ya, darlin." He leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, then stood up to leave.

"Come on, we'll all talk in the morning." Jean watched as Jubilee and Kurt gave Rogue a hug, then ushered everyone out of the med lab. When it looked as if almost everyone was heading for the door, Jean strolled over to Remy's side and placed a caring hand on his shoulder. "You too, Gambit, you need the sleep."

"Dis chair'll do." He responded glumly. His eyes were still on Joseph, who remained standing at the back of the room with no intentions of leaving.

"Sugah, we all know how long yah can stay by mah side. Ah appreciate yoah concern, but Ah aint goin' nowhere between now an' mornin. Try an' have a peaceful naght's sleep in a proper bed, not in this chintzy chair."

Remy turned to look at Rogue, considering her offer. To her surprise, he didn't object, but bent over to kiss her on the forehead, then rose from the chair to leave. Not to say that his departure was completely uneventful, for he stopped right in front of Joseph on the way out. Disobeying any unspoken laws or rights to personal space, Gambit brought his face disrespectfully close to Joseph's, and spoke quietly so that only he may hear. "Outside. **Now**." He then forcefully shouldered Joseph as he swept past the former X-Man to the exit.

* * *

The slight curve of the wall, which rounded above their heads into an architecturally sound archway, nicely supported Gambit's back. He leaned casually against the metallic corridor of the mansion's lower level, staring straight at a man who could only be described as his 'equal opposite'. Contradictory maybe, but true. Both with long hair, rugged features and a strapping physique, it was easy for Gambit to see how Rogue would find either man attractive. And Joseph's rigid stance was the only thing that made him appear taller, when in fact, they were of the same height. But the similarities didn't end there. Hell, they even shared a likeness of history... the old 'bad-guy gone good' reformist gig. 

And yet, Gambit couldn't help but think just how different they were. It really bothered him when Joseph was this insensitive.

"Why y' here, homme?" He asked smoothly.

"To visit Rogue."

"Oh, really?" Gambit played along to humour the man. "I see. Nearly two years later y' just show up, juss like that, wander back into her life t' find out nuttin more than how she's doin?"

Joseph clenched his jaw, which over exaggerated his already prominent cheekbones. "If that's the way you want to put it, then yes..."

"Well, she's doin' shitty, if you couldn't already tell."

There was a long, calculating silence before Joseph spoke next. "Why you?"

"Pardon?"

"Why you? Why not me? What do you have to offer her that I don't have?" Apparently Joseph had been thinking along the same lines as Gambit was before.

Remy used his elbows to push himself off the wall, standing at equal plane with Joseph. "Fate."

"Fate?!" He scoffed, completely caught off guard. Surely a thief like Gambit wouldn't believe in something so… so hopelessly romanticized.

"Oui. Fate."

Now it was Joseph's turn to be condescending and sarcastic. "Yes, because everything in life is perfectly laid out for us, and all we have to do is go through the motions."

"No, dat's not what Remy said." He sighed before explaining. "M' père once told me sumtin dat stuck… De choices y' make in life are dictated by your personality. Dat's where fate come in. Doesn't mean you don't have udder options t' pick from, but you end up goin down the path y' do because dats just who you are… and **nobody** can deny who dey truly are."

Joseph shifted on his feet, straightening his stilted back with false pride. When the fluorescent runner lights on the ceiling flickered, Gambit could have sworn that he was standing face-to-face with Magneto.

"Can't deny who you are? Do you know who _you_ are?"

Joseph let his words hang in the air for a moment, allowing for time to reflect. "Do you think you are a fighting man, Gambit? Because that _is_ what you _are_, as an X-Man… a warrior for a worthy cause. But do you _truly_ think that you fight for what you **believe** in?"

He didn't even need time to blink. That is who he had become the moment he stepped foot on the mansion groudns. "Yes."

"Then why did you stop fighting for her two years ago? Is she not **worth** anything to you? Only worth enough to make your move when she left me? I still don't understand, to this very day, how you won Rogue over. **How **_**could**_** you, **when youstopped** fighting for her**?!"

"I _**never**_ stopped fighting for Rogue!!! **Strategy** is still a fight, Joseph. Even though sometimes dere's no alternative an' y' have t'get physical, not _every_ battle can be won wit hand-to-hand combat… which _you_ _should_ know, being a former X-Man, an' all."

"Well, I'm here, aren't I? I've never stopped fighting for her, either."

"Yes you did. When y' had her… when y' thought you'd won. Wit de bracelet and de pen, R'member?… Took her for granted, mon ami. And I kept fighting for her, and she saw dat."

Joseph scrunched up his face in his rage. "What?!?! What a load of **bullshit**! I can't see how that makes _any_ sense –"

"Course you can't. And dat's who you _are_… Like Magneto, always fightin' wit your fist, never y'head. Thas_**exactly**_why it wasn't fated for you two t'be together."

And at that, Joseph could say nothing else, but could only curse the man that left him lagging behind in the dust.

* * *

Kneeling in the dirt. With all his potential talent, _this_ is what he was assigned… kneeling in dirt. 

Scratch that, kneeling in dog shit.

He sighed and grabbed a nearby twig to wipe the excrement off his leg, when he heard activity at the front doors. As silently as he could, he dropped the twig and grabbed the binoculars from around his neck, focusing in on the rod-iron gates that guarded Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. Although he was positioned a ways away, shrouded under some bushes and foliage, his training had always taught him that being sleuth meant being _quiet_, no matter how professional your guise. A leaf was blocking his vision, which he cautiously brushed to the side.

The branches cracked loudly.

He rolled his eyes and cussed under his breath. "_So much for complete and utter silence._" He mentally berated himself.

It didn't matter much, though. The noise was masked by the loud groans of the gates as they parted, letting a vehicle screech out of the driveway and bound down the road. When the car was gone and he was sure he was alone, he reached for his walkie-talkie.

"Subject has left the parameters. Will pursue vehicle. Over."

"Good." The voice cracked over the communication device. "Any information acquired?"

"Subject is a former X-Man. Given name, Joseph. Utilized eight-digit keypad code upon entrance. Over."

"No retina scan? No voice activation key?"

"It's a school for 'Gifted Youngsters', not a government vault…. Over."

"Watch your _tone_." The voice demanded. Static for a moment, then "Proceed."

It was the permission he was waiting for. He discretely slipped into the shadows one minute, and was tailing the target the next.

* * *

It was dull, dingy, and had been the X-Men's favourite hideout for years. Harry's bar was the one place mutants were welcome to take a load off their shoulders, without any pressures from the media or the public. And as soon as Joseph had angrily peeled out of the driveway, it was the first place that popped into his mind. Boy did he ever need a drink. 

Four beers later, he was saying the same thing… with a much less coherent vocabulary, mind you, but the main concept was there.

He called out to Harry, requesting " 'Nother one." He had learned not to lift his arm in the air to signal anymore, lest he loose his balance on the stool and tip backwards. The studious bartender gently pushed a bottle across the counter, where it slid to a stop right in front of Joseph. Joseph then lifted the bottle up by its neck to the light, examining the skewed glow through the tinted glass.

"Fate! Nossuchthing." He slurred the words together, and continued on in a rather animated rant. "I mean, what was th'fate of me meeting her in the first place? Fate… so that I would end up lonely? S'that I would end up _piss drunk_, spilling my _guts_ out to some strange woman at a bar?" He then frowned with embarrassment, and turned to face the attractive blond on his left. "Uh… no offence."

She smiled. "None taken."

He threw his head back and let the beer bubble down his throat, let the alcohol numb his senses. He then slammed the bottle down on the counter and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. "I dinneven get to talk to her in th'infirmary."

"Poor baby." The woman drew out her words to a seductive purr, snaking her hand up his back and lacing her fingers through his hair.

"Fate. Yeah, right." He added lethargically, eyelids fluttering as she twisted a long white tendril around her finger. Right before he succumbed to a peaceful, inebriated sleep… she yanked his hair.

Joseph was startled into alertness (so to speak), and turned to address the pretty arm candy, who he really had no interest in whatsoever (more proof that he was completely wasted). "I'm sorry, am I boring you?"

"No, cher. Not at all." Belle wedged herself under Joseph's arm, cuddling into his chest. "Tell me more 'bout dis 'infirmary'. Where's it located on de grounds?"

* * *

**SNEAK PEEK:**

She had to run. Who knew how long ago it happened?

She had to keep breathing, keep her feet moving to the pace of her heart.

"_Keep going!_" she told herself, "_Run!_"

When she reached the main foyer, she stopped at the foot of the stairs, hanging on to the banister for dear life. At least that way she could hold herself steady, stop from shaking while she shifted modes.

She couldn't sound the alarm. It was over, and that would just create mass pandemonium among the students. She squeezed her eyes tight, images of face zooming about her mind. When she collected them all, counted every last one, made extra sure she didn't forget a single person, Jean let her mind scream.

* * *

**MWAHAHHAHAH! I'm evil. I love the end of this chapter. It starts to call back everythin****g we learned at the beginning. Did everyone understand my comment on fate? I hope I explained that well. And I bet you can guess what's gonna happen next! But you can't guess everything! Tell me what you think of this chappy! Go go go! Review review review!**


	7. Losing Battle, Winning Team

I'm BAA-aack! YES, Professor Horatio Hufnagel has returned. Huzza!!! And guess what? I've brought chapter 7 with me! The longest chapter thus far, standing at a whopping 9,100 words! Jam-packed with those explanations you so sorely craved. I think I've strung you along for long enough, don't you? I KNOW THIS CHAPTER IS LONG, but it would mean a lot to me of you all reviewed after reading it. Even if you didn't like it, give me some suggestions! That's the only way I'll know how to improve.

Let's try and make 10 reviews, okay? The next chapter should be relatively shorter, and the sooner I get the reviews, the sooner I can post.  
And don't worry, I'm setting the stage for some REALLY GOOD ROMY ANGST to come in future chaps.

That being said, Chapter 7 comes with a small warning:  
There is French that is not translated in this chapter. I don't like putting the English translation in brackets or at the bottom of the page because it removes you from the story. But the French that is used doesn't really need to be understood so don't worry. Also, you could probably figure out that this chapter was done over a very long period of time, in which I probably repeated some diction about ten times over. So please forgive me if some of my words become repetitive, because I hate when you can spot repetition in writing when the author uses the same words over and over and over again in a very repetitive manner. Lol

**Cooltangarine**, oh you bet! **ButterflyRogue**, Down with Homework! You've got the right idea! And personally, I find that you learn the most when you find things you're interested in yourself and explore on your own (like fanfic writing, it actually teaches you a lot). Tell CS that I can't wait, I know your stories will great. One wonderful mind at a story is awesome, but two?! The sky is the limit (but apparently for me, tired-out, old sayings and phrases are my limit. "Sky is the limit"… tsk tsk tsk, I couldn't think of anything better than that? Jeesh). Joseph is a drag, but he's far from being useless ;) There are certain characters I love to play around with, and he's definitely one of them (he's the 'use and abuse' guy). **xLeBeaux**, thank you! Just for that, you get to find out in this chapter! Yay! **Roguechere**, Oh I am SUCH a tease. Just wait and see. **Abril4**, Thanks so much for the review! Yes, I know, I left you hanging. I'm a dolt. But if it's any consolation, this chapter really proves just how much Remy loves Rogue. And BOY does he ever have a lot to carry. **Blackagenda**, evil is my middle name ; ) …Wait, no it isn't! **RogueFreak**, a car race sounds perfect! Though I'm really bad at driving. Maybe it's because I taught myself how to drive. _Maybe_.

Thanks to those who also recently commented on "An Illusive Truth: Part 1." **Slytherinbabe05**, It makes me so happy to get reviews like yours! All in one go? That's rediculus! Teehee… sorry, I'm notorious for bad corny jokes. But on the flip side, it's good that I also really like Harry Potter, right? **HopelessRomantic84**, I just had to do it. I quoted you in this chapter. I had already written "knight in shining armour" into the chapter, and then you gave me that great review. Your words worked much better than what I already had!

So that all being said, here it is! THE ANSWERS! Remember to leave me big, chunky reviews after reading!  
-- The Dear Professor

* * *

DISCLAIMER: The general story is my own, the characters and concepts are not. I gotta no moneys, so please don't sue.

* * *

She had to run. Who knew how long ago it had happened? 

She had to keep breathing, keep her feet moving to the pace of her heart.

"_Keep going_" she told herself, "_Run!_"

When she reached the main foyer, she stopped at the foot of the stairs and hung on to the banister for dear life. At least this way she could keep herself from shaking.

She couldn't sound the alarm - it was over, and that would just create chaos among the students. She squeezed her eyes tight, images of faces zooming about her mind. When she collected them all, counted every last one, made extra sure she didn't forget a single person, Jean let her mind scream.

"**X-MEN! DOWNSTAIRS, NOW! EMERGENCY!**"

The waiting was agony. It was probably just a second or two, but it felt as if minutes were flying by. She strained to listen over her pounding heart, a noise practically indistinguishable from the thuds now traveling across the floorboards. Her less-than-pleasant wakeup call was cause enough for everyone to stumble out of bed, not to mention the ungodly timing of her call so early in the morning. She turned a full circle and ran back again, knowing that they would all follow. Sharp stitches in her side reminded her to breathe again, and her hands clamped down above her hips to press out the pain. There was no time for pain... _"There might not be any time at all. What if we're too late?"_

Her feet hammered against the floor with such propelling force that her legs went numb, the motion of running becoming automatic. She shifted her attention once again to the X-Men that were mentally connected to her psyche.

"_I don't know when… how… they could have done this with all of us upstairs…_"

Was it the unnatural yellow ceiling lights that made her eyes water, or was she doing that on her own?

"_I'm a psychic, for goodness sake! I should have been alerted to something… __**anything**_"

She stopped abruptly in front of the med lab and leaned against the sliding door to keep it from closing. With her head turned out to the hall, she watched worry form on her teammate's faces as they, too, slowed in front of the room.

Actually, at first glance you wouldn't think anything was wrong... Then the overturned chair would register, and the white sheets balled in a heap at the foot of the empty bed. It looked as if the tube had been yanked clear of the intravenous sack, fluid dripping into the puddle that glazed the floor below.

The crowd parted to let Gambit push his way to the front. "**Where is she?!**"

He frantically paced the room, half expecting Rogue to jump up from behind a gurney, laughing. It was just a prank… one large, well-orchestrated prank. But the more he scoured for answers the less he found. Panic wrapped itself tightly around his chest, and _pulled_ - he was running out of places that she could be hiding.

"WHERE IS SHE?!" He shouted into the air.

Kurt entered the room. "Zer vas barely a struggle. Obviously…" his tail fell gracefully to the floor and draped itself around his leg for comfort, "…zey knew vat zey ver doing."

"Explains the smell." Wolverine sniffed the room, and then righted his own ambiguity. "Chloroform."

Suddenly Remy felt dizzy, extremely light-headed. He went to sit on the medical bed before he lost his bearings… He had lost so much already. The mattress sloped down towards his seat and caused the sheets to pucker. A white slip of paper fluttered up into the air and back down again, jumping at its chance to be noticed. It teetered on the uneven bedspread until Gambit picked it up.

A phone number was written in thin black ink across one side, and the message "_Waiting for your call_" was haplessly scribbled on the other. Immediately recognizing the writing, Gambit sprang into action. He leapt from the bed and practically flew over to the phone mounted on the wall. His fingers punched in the numbers violently, each loud key tone that could be heard from the receiver sounded like a scream of pain. As the line began to ring he switched it to speaker mode and slammed the phone into the cradle so hard that the cord swung like a pendulum.

…Two rings, three rings, four rings…

The connection was made with a click and shuffling on the other end brought the line to life.

It was assumed that Gambit would strike up the conversation, but he waited, and so did the recipient of the call. It was as if they were both playing the other for the fool, the coward, daring the weaker to speak first.

The other end finally caved with a hollow chuckle and summoned their most sickeningly syrupy-sweet voice. "Remy, after all dese years! You 'membered our anniversary? Hmmm…" She feigned a contented sigh. "…how very thoughtful!"

"BELLE, I **SWEAR**, IF YOU HARM A SINGLE HAIR ON HER HEAD –"

"No need, cher, she's doin' a fine job of dat herself. De bitch has a problem staying conscious, non?"

There was a long pause to separate words from thought. While Gambit was battling off millions of anxious fears that dwelled in the lull, Belladonna seemed to be reveling in it. Of course, they couldn't see her – but if it was at all possible, every last X-Man in the room could have sworn they **heard** her smile. It was in the way she clung to the word 'non'. That moment was essentially her entire reason for being. Anything that ever meant _anything_ lay wrapped up in its implications: how it empowered her, the wonderful opportunities it opened for the future, the sadistically thrilling ways she could make him dance… make him _pay_…

He was hers.

"I don't tink I need t'explain what dis means, Remy. See you here in two hours, d'accord? Or I'll assume you aren't coming."

The dial tone screeched until Gambit turned off the speakerphone. It was settled; they were going to New Orleans.

* * *

If your opponent raises the anti, what do you do?  
Counter? 

With what? They don't want anything of yours.

Okay, so bluff.

Bluff. Sounds good… _if_ you're not a terrible liar. No such luck. You're backed into a corner here, and time limitations would prove any 'miraculous' hand a fake.  
So what's left?

Fold.

Clearly Scott was not a natural born poker player – he always lost all his money to Remy or Logan. But as the leader, he just couldn't accept 'folding' as the answer. They _**never**_ give up. Not them, not the X-Men.

Okay, new analogy. They've targeted the queen, leaving your entire side of the chess board vulnerable. With her in their custody, any small hit seems like a gigantic blow. And you're without a strategy…

…except one.

It was then that Cyclops could follow Remy's logic. He could finally understand why Remy insisted on flying to New Orleans immediately: Go willingly, go quietly. Go for the opening gambit. Sacrifice the black pawn to buy some time.

The Blackbird streaked through the sky unnoticed to the naked eye. Upon Gambit's command, they landed in a small clearing next to a swamp. Vines and twigs snapped underneath the jet as it landed, and the X-Men filed out quietly, each taking time to adjust to the new atmosphere.

It was definitely culture shock. With their first steps off of the metal ladder their feet were eaten by the soft, mushy ground. The air was thick with a mixture of heat and noxious gases that were exhaled by the gurgling bog. It clung to their skin, coated their mouths and lined their airways, making their lungs fall heavy with every breath. Gambit led them through the tangle of vegetation with ease, his feet practically bouncing off the spongy soil. He waited patiently for those lagging behind as they scrambled to free themselves from the suction of the mud. He even waited for the few unfortunate beings that had to pull themselves up from a gritty face-plant.

After minutes of trekking the trees began to thin and the air became less offensive. Light peaked through the leaves overhead, scattering broken shadows that speckled their skin. Their calf muscles clenched as their steps slanted upwards, giving the impression that they were walking uphill. When the ground leveled out again, Gambit held out an arm crossing Cyclops' chest, forcing him and a few other X-Men to come to an abrupt stop. The rest slowed down and craned their heads to see over the group.

Just past where the trees broke away stood an ominous estate that overlooked the forest. Its Victorian influence almost seemed out of place – but the swamp had taken its toll on the façade, reducing some of the fine workmanship to a state just above desperation. Ivy vines crept up the sides of the rust-red brick walls and intertwined themselves between gaps in the gingerbread lattice and porch railings. The off-white paint on the colonial windows peeled from the heat, imitating the black shingles lifting off of the roof. Ingrown weeds shot up between cracks in the stepping stones and mingled with the unkempt grass. Although the place may have had a charming exterior once upon a time, it now looked destitute.

"What a dump."

Bobby smiled at Bishop's clever observation. "I'd like to see Martha Stewart use her magic to try and fix _this_."

"You wouldn't catch Martha Stewart hanging around a swamp in the first place. Duh!" Jubilee corrected Bobby, and then addressed the back of Gambit's head. "Why would anyone build a house here?"

Remy barely glanced back over his shoulder to answer, eyes fixed on the front of the building. "For seclusion."

Ororo spoke up. "Then why let it go to shambles?"

"To be inconspicuous. Would kinda draw attention if high-society holed up in a cesspool, don'tcha think?" Wolverine raised an eyebrow at Storm, amused at how fast her lips straightened to a thin line. You would never guess it, but Logan actually admired her protective nature; she was to Gambit as he was to Rogue. Then again, all it took was a few off-putting words about her Cajun or his history and the woman would immediately take the defense.

"It is not a _cesspool_, Logan. It is a swamp."

"Speaking of which," Cyclops interjected impatiently, "why are we still standing here?"

"Dey're watching th'swamp. It's the Assassin's main hideout, so de guards be positioned everywhere, juss waitin'." Gambit turned to speak to the entire group. "Remy goes first so dey don't open fire. Den de rest of you follow on Cyke's command."

Next, Gambit swiveled to face Hank. "Y' do what you can f' her, whatever dat may be, Remy trusts you." He stood with feet grounded firmly in front of Scott and Hank, waiting for his words to sink in. He had deliberately excluded himself from the picture.

"She's gonna wanna be de hero, but y' don't let her. If she were t'get involved more than she already is…" He paused, swallowing hard. "Anna means th'world to me."

Hank and Scott stared at him. They were the only ones who seemed to understand what he was implying. The rest of the X-Men were completely lost, but Remy didn't care; he was only waiting for their leader's approval. Cyclops, seeing no other way to avoid the inevitable, nodded curtly. It was the only good plan they had.

Avoiding questions from his teammates, Gambit strode out from behind the trees and presented himself to the lifeless estate. Almost instantly, Assassin guards materialized from thin air – from behind pillars, crevasses and walls – with guns aimed directly at him. He stood stalk still, arms held away from his body with palms forward to suggest that he came unarmed. There was a moment of hesitation, until the guard standing at the main entrance crossed his left hand over his body towards his right hip and pulled out a walkie-talkie. He brought the communication device to his mouth and quietly mumbled a command. Within seconds, the front door swung open on its hinges and the same guard abandoned post to escort Bella Donna down the steps. She seemed to glide confidently to where Gambit stood, leaving roughly two to three feet distance between them.

"Bonjour, Remy. Glad you chose t'show."

"Wouldn't miss dis for de world." He seethed.

"Nor would your cavalry, I presume."

At her mention of the X-Men Cyclops emerged from the trees, the entire team trickling out behind him.

The Assassins gave them a warm welcome by simultaneously cocking twenty-odd rifles in their direction, the clicks swooping around the parameters like surround sound. Belle chuckled. "But y'see, I take precautions juss like you do, cher."

She shifted to her right, looking past Gambit to the X-Men. "Oh, and by de way, t'ank your Professor f'r bein' so accommodative. Fifolet would have never been able t'hide in de bushes outside de mansion if y'r security wuz tighter."

Cyclops couldn't help himself, his curiosity getting the better of him. "How'd you get past the infrared sensors, the gates, _all_ of the mansion security without being detected?"

"Ah, yes. Y' specialized entrance system and codex. It wuz like notin' I've ever seen before. But a former colleague of yours – Joseph, is it? – proved helpful in more ways dan one." Bella Donna announced proudly. She placed a hand on the shoulder blade of her guard and escort, his back straightening with all the pomp and pride of a peacock. "Fifolet here wuz assigned to track the former X-Man, and eventually followed him to a bar." She paused briefly to appreciate Scott's silent fury. "Is amazing how just a few drinks can loosen a man's tongue."

"An' dat's another ting," She rambled on, "You X-Men gotta be less trusting wit' y'r associates. Keep dem on a shorter leash. See, once we got de four-digit entrance code out of him… well… de rest wuz nothing dat any _mildly_ trained professional couldn't handle."

Cyclops gritted his teeth. "Our security systems took years to develop!"

"Oh, don't flatter me." She joked. "I know. We're juss dat good." She redirected her attention to Remy, quickly closing the distance that separated them. "We're getting better at break-ins, Remy. Almost as good as you an' de T'ieves…" She leaned in, her breath tickling the inside of his ear. "… _Almost_."

Gambit pushed against her chest, shoving her away. "Cut de crap already and bring Rogue out."

"Fine!" With a snarl, she yanked the walkie-talkie from Fifolet's hand and barked a French order into the device.

People understood not to hesitate when it came to Bella Donna. When she wanted something done, that meant now. So in no time at all, the main doors opened again, this time by a dark-skinned man with dreadlocks and a scowl. Gris Gris pushed his way onto the porch, viciously yanking a pale and slender woman out after him. Her hands were bound behind her back with cuffs, auburn hair disheveled and matted with dirt, and she was still wearing a hospital gown with no back.

Every single fiber in Remy's body ached at the sight of Rogue, and his muscles tensed underneath his brown duster jacket.

"Y' couldn't even_ give her __**clothes?**_" he hissed.

Belle shrugged passively. "I offered, but…" Her mouth twitched, curling up at the ends, "…she wouldn't let de guards undress her."

They all watched as Gris Gris ushered Rogue down the front steps, stopping right behind Bella Donna. Gambit turned and gave a quick motion for Wolverine to come stand beside him.

"_What's going on?_" Jean telepathically nudged Scott, body still stiffly positioned in a fighting stance. Whether he knew anything or not was unclear. He didn't respond.

Logan stood still at first, then hesitantly exposed his claws and advanced. Fifolet's hand was quick to fly to his side where his rifle was slung and Gris Gris drew out a hand gun. Bella Donna extended her stretched hand to halt him. "No claws!"

Wolverine stopped and looked apprehensively to Gambit. When Gambit nodded his head in approval, Logan withdrew the metal with a 'Shinkt'. Fifolet's arm immediately fell limp and Gris Gris returned the hand gun to its holster. The frowning Canadian crossed the distance and stood right beside Gambit. He kept silent, but aimed the deadliest of glares at Gris Gris.

"Bon. On my word." Belle instructed.

"On your word what?" Wolverine's eyes darted frantically between all of the Southeners. "On your word we _what?_"

"**Now!**"

It all happened so fast. Rogue's body suddenly collided into Wolverine's chest, nearly knocking the wind out of him. At the same time Gambit was yanked towards the Assassins, Belle's nails digging into the flesh of his arm. Rogue twisted around in Wolverine's hold and struggled to stand upright on her weak legs. "No… Remy…" She reached out towards him, her voice escaping as a whimper, nothing more. As Belle, Gris Gris and Fifolet turned to drag him into the estate, Gambit was able to lock eyes with Rogue. His lips moved soundlessly, mouthing his last words to her; 'Jean-Luc'.

"Wait... No! NO, GAMBIT, DON'T!" Jubilee cried from the front end of the property, the words tumbling out over her trembling chin before she could catch herself. Sure, Rogue was a hostage, but Gambit would be their possession. If he went in, then there was no guarantee that he would ever come out.

But it was too late. Rogue, Logan and the rest of the X-Men could only stand and watch helplessly as Remy was dragged up the steps and forced into the house, disappearing from sight.

When he felt the coast was clear and Rogue wouldn't try to pointlessly chase after her husband, Wolverine extended his claws and sliced through her cuffs. He prepared himself for her to get physical with kicking and screaming, but she didn't. He waited for her to bawl her eyes out, but she didn't. He waited for her to fall apart in his arms, but she didn't. There was no other word for it than stunned.

Cyclops took the opportunity to try the impossible and raise everyone's morale. He turned slowly, sheepishly, to deal with his team. "It's what he _had_ to do." He rationalized. "He'll buy us some time to get Rogue to safety. She's in no condition to be held hostage, remember? And he can handle it."

His gaze wandered about the X-Men, taking in their downcast expressions. It took time, but he finally gathered enough courage to meet the stare of the mortified teen before him. "We'll get him back, Jubilee, don't worry."

He just wished that he believed it. For you see, Gambit was never the black pawn - He was the king, the opponent's one and only target right from the start. But this situation was unique, which made strategizing a harder task than you would ever believe. In chess, each piece holds only one title, and that certainly wasn't the case here. Gambit was not only the king, but also was Rogue's knight in shining trench coat.

"Jean, can you try and contact him? ...Jean!"

"I -I can't! It's not working!" She stammered with frustration. "Don't ask me how, but… I think they have a magnetic shield around the building!"

"…'Helpful in more ways than one'…" Hank muttered to himself, eyes searching the ground at his feet as if the answer lay right before him. Then the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. "…Oh dear." He raised his head. "It appears as if _they_ were the ones who stole the Shi'Ar equipment from Joseph. And if that is indeed the case, then I would assume they have power negators activated as well."

"So ve can't make contact vith him?" Kurt asked uneasily.

"How the hell are we gonna find out what they're doin' to him?" Bishop sighed.

"Or where zey're keeping him?" Piotr added.

"Or find a way to rescue him! We'll be powerless in there!" Kitty exclaimed.

"Jean-Luc." Everyone took a while to realize that the slight, foreign voice which spoke actually belonged to Rogue. It sounded so rough with anger and dread, it was practically unrecognizable. "We gottah go tah the Thieves Guild."

Cyclops took a brief moment to consider his options and nodded quickly. "Okay, fine. Let's go back to the mansion, get you cared for, regroup and –"

"No. We need tah go now."

"_No_, you need to be looked after first."

"Ah'm _fahn_. Let's _**go**_."

The squad watched the exchange quietly, heads bobbling back and forth between the two X-Men.

"No Rogue. Gambit made me promise to keep you safe. And because I have no idea of what's actually _wrong_ with you, we're going back to Westchester."

"Nothin's wrong. Let's head ta tha French Quarter so we can –"

"Rogue, I'm not going to argue with you on this. It isn't a debate, it's an order."

"No, no, _NO_! WE GOTTA HELP HIM!" The floor was moving under her feet, jostling her insides around. Her ears weren't co-operating either, picking up that odd high-frequency hum. And her lungs, for that matter - they couldn't inflate fast enough. She began to heave with panic.

For the first time that day Scott actually looked scared. "Hank, help me –"

Beast placed a loving hand over Rogue's chest to calm her before she hyperventilated. "Rogue, listen to me. You need medical attention immediately. Gambit sacrificed himself in exchange for your safety - It is what he would have wanted. As soon as we are confident you aren't in any immediate danger we can set out again for New Orleans and seek help."

"But…" her voice cracked with emotion, "…but Ah…he…he told meh…" Tears tumbled down her cheeks, streaking her dirt-stained face clean. Rogue was always thought to be the strong, confident woman that could hold her own. So naturally, it tore everyone's heart out to hear her plead. She was well beyond forming coherent sentences….

She was broken.

"Please… please! …No… No, please!"

What could he do? Scott knew that if he were in the very same position, he would go to the ends of the Earth to save Jean. His compassion was ganging up on his leader instincts.

"Hank, do we have equipment in the Blackbird to treat Rogue?"

The hair at the back of Beast's neck bristled. For him, it wasn't a fight between science and compassion; science _was_ actually the most compassionate thing for her. "There is enough for a very _basic, streamline_ examination, yes. But –"

"So fine. We examine Rogue on the jet, and if anything seems irregular we turn right around and head back to New York, alright? …What are we waiting for? Let's go."

Hank shot Cyclops an agitated look, sighed, and followed the migrating group back to the X-jet.

* * *

"Done… if you can call it 'done'. Really, I haven't done enough to even start." Hank finished wiping off the dirt on Rogue's face with a damp cloth. The conditions they had kept her in were absolutely appalling. He really needed proper medical equipment with him for a proper assessment; otherwise there was no telling what kind of effect so much neglect would have on her. 

He helped Rogue into a sitting position on the jet's examination table, noticing her shiver as her exposed skin made contact with the cool steel. "Here." He draped a blanket over her shoulders and carefully freed the hair that got caught underneath. "I'm sorry we didn't think to bring you any clothes."

Despite her fatigued body, Rogue smiled warmly. "It's alraght. Thank yah."

She gently shimmied to reach the end of the table as Beast helped her stand. Her bare feet padded along the slick, metal floor, which sent a different kind of shudder up through her spine. Each step felt sterile, and she couldn't help connect the feeling to her life. The reality was that she might have to face being alone again… without him.

"Rogue?" Ororo's voice broke her train of thought. "We are almost there."

Rogue walked to the front of the Blackbird where Jean was piloting the jet. Ororo sat as co-pilot on the right of the commands and was fiddling with the many buttons on the Global Positioning System.

"We are just coming up to Canal Street now." She pointed out their location on the screen. "Where would you suggest we land?"

"Well, it's near th'outskirts of the French Quarter, which is still a very built-up area so we can't land raght outside of the mansion. The only other clearing is attached to their property –"

"Perfect! We'll land there." Jean concluded prematurely.

"Sugah, although Ah've only been t' the Guild once tah meet Remy's family, Ah know enough tah figure that if an unidentified jet lands in their backyard, they're gonna open fire."

"Right. So then where can we land?"

"Uhhh… _well_…" She hesitated, "…it looks lahk we're gonna hafta walk."

"Through all of New Orleans? Like this? In our uniforms? Ha! Sorry darlin', but I'll save myself the embarrassment, thanks!"

"Hey!" She rounded on Wolverine, digging her pointing finger into his chest. "Ah _wish_ Ah had mah uniform!"

Logan looked at her - the cotton hospital gown hanging loosely from her body, the ratty maroon blanket covering her bare behind… and he had a feeling that at the right angle in direct sunlight, you just might just be able to see through the material. He grunted. "Fair enough."

* * *

Their landing was smooth, more so than the one near the swamp. Upon opening the crew hatch they were bombarded with sunlight, green grass and clear skies. It made their walk more enjoyable, to say the least. 

They navigated their way through side roads to draw less unwanted attention, but still found they could benefit from the wonderful music and smells that consumed the French Quarter.

"These here buildin's are historical landmarks in the town, but where we're goin' is all new, fashioned after the Garden District." Rogue explained as they passed the many houses, shops and cafés that lined the streets.

The area was full of life - it bred life. People were up and about, greeting passing strangers with a friendly smile and wave. The energy was contagious, and Beast was always a naturally friendly folk. So when the X-Men passed a mother walking down the sidewalk a foot ahead of her son, the boy looking up at Beast with riveted curiosity, Hank really couldn't help himself.

"Well hello there!" He chimed tunefully, kneeling down to the boy's level.

The boy's face contorted into a look of pain as he let out a whine and ran to catch up with his mother.

They had been walking for a very long time, and although it was relatively enjoyable (with the exception of Beast's sudden bad mood) their feet were beginning to ache. Just when they thought they had seen everything the city had to offer, the buildings parted to reveal an awe-inspiring manor. It was a two-story mansion of a nineteenth century Creole influence, with Georgian windows and shutters, and white-washed side paneling known as clapboard. The wraparound veranda had fluted pillars with beveled bases and squared-off capitals, the columns stretching all the way up to the second story's roof apron. A cast iron fence ran around the perimeter of the property, caging a plethora of bushes and shrubbery that would have surely spilled out onto the streets.

"Mein schweister has very humble relatives, ja?" Kurt sniggered.

Rogue rolled her eyes and led the way up to the front gates, when two guards practically accosted her.

"Qu'est que vous voulez?"

Somewhat startled, Rogue had trouble finding the right words. "Je suis… No, no. Je ne comprends pas français. Is that raght? Oh dear, Uhhh... Ah – Ah'm here tah see LeBeau – _Jean-Luc_! Jean-Luc LeBeau."

The second guard turned to the first and spoke in a fluent string of French too quick to understand. When they finished, both faced forward again. The first guard replied, but seemed to stare right through Rogue.

"'M sorry. We can't let you enter."

"Oh! Ya'll speak English! Good! Ah'm Rogue, Jean-Luc's daughter-in-law. Ah need tah speak tah him. It's urgent."

"Je suis désolé. Nous ne pouvons pas vous laisser entrer."

"ListenAh need tah speak with tha Guild Leader about a guild membah. _Please_."

"Nous ne pouvons pas vous laisser entrer."

"Wait, Ah thought ya spoke English!"

A small smirk crept up the side of the guard's face before he blinked it away, returning to his stone-cold stare. "Stand de côté, Si vous plait."

"Okay, Ah don't think y'all understand. It's an emergency! Ah'm Remy's _**wife**_!"

"Stand de côté, _**Madam**_"

"Why are yah bein' so difficult?!"

"Stand de côté, Si vous plait."

"_**Please! **_Ah –"

"Stand de côté, Si vous plait."

"LET US IN!" Rogue's face flushed, her eyes watering with rage. "**LET** **US **_**IN**_"

* * *

"Il est incroyable! De man hasn't seen me f'r a week, so what does he do? Gives me a hug, den t'rows me out of his office!" Henri flung his hands over his head in frustration and hurled himself onto the bed next to Mercy's laundry basket, the act of unpacking his suitcase long forgotten. 

"You have horrible timing! He was in de middle of a meetin' wit' Theoren, an' you interrupted." Mercy yanked a pair of plaid boxers out from underneath her husband's butt, totally unsympathetic and unconcerned. She bent over to smooth the underwear out on the bed, pushing a strand of blond hair that fell in front of her face back behind her ear. She was very strong-willed, one of the many reasons why she had become the first woman to join the Thieves Guild.

"I belong in dat meetin'!" Henri huffed. "Theoren went after leads juss like I did! Even Tante Mattie's in dere! …An' since when do I have horrible timing?"

Mercy inclined her head to the side and raised her eyebrows at him. "Y' proposed t'me _after_ I agreed t'marry y'."

"Okaaaay… so tha's once… and I wuz nervous!"

She rolled her eyes as she always would, exasperation very much second nature when dealing with Henri LeBeau. "Maybe, if y' weren't so opinionated Jean-Luc would have let y'stay. Y'r such a backseat driver, always tellin' people how dey could have done dey're jobs bett'r." She looked up to find him watching her hands, his moustache twitching ever so slightly. "What?!"

"No, is nuthin'… Is juss…If y' roll down de top of th'socks instead o' ballin' dem, dey won' lose elasticity."

"Aaggh!" She threw a sock ball at his face. "I musta been stupid t' marry y'."

" 'Parently. After all, _you_ were de one t'say 'yes' _before_ I proposed." He teased hautily.

She smiled, taking aim with another pair of socks. He promptly recoiled to a sitting position and raised his hands to surrender. "But y' love me, don't you?"

She dropped her arms and shrugged her shoulders sweetly. "Sadly, yes."

Henry smiled wide, shuffling across the bedspread towards her. When he was close enough, he elevated himself onto his knees so that he and his wife were face to face and wrapped his arms around her waist lovingly. Mercy sighed and embraced him with one arm, using the other hand to rub his bald head. "If y'_must_ know, you can turn up de audio on de surveillance camera…"

Henri released a yelp of victory. He kissed his wife on the forehead and disentangled himself from her arms. "Das it! T'ank you! See, dat's why I married ya!" He scooted off the bed, jumped to his feet and ran from the bedroom.

* * *

Henri entered the dark surveillance room with a nonchalant swagger and hovered over the switchboard of dials and buttons. What he was about to do was fine. Perfectly fine. He had every right to listen in on the meeting. And Jean-Luc probably would have filled him in on the details later anyways. …Probably. Most likely. So it wasn't really snooping. 

…And even if it was, he was a thief! What show of ethics could anyone possibly expect from him, right? So that made it okay. Because people wouldn't expect any more of him.

It didn't matter. Whatever reasoning he came up with, the verdict was the same: he was going to do it, and that's that.

Henri rubbed his hands together and licked his lips with a grin. He leaned in, squinting from the glow as his head followed the rows of flickering screens. It was in with the grouping of first floor surveillance, he knew that much. And it was labeled 'head office'. So where was it? It had to be here somewhere…

Kitchen, no… Back porch, no… Dining hall, no… Garden views four, five and six, no… Front door, no... Front gates, no… Wait, What?

Henri did a double take when he reached the camera monitoring the front gates. There were bodies gathered there, way too many bodies for all of them to be guards. No, they definitely were not all guards. He gently adjusted the zoom dial to close in on the unidentified figures. The equipment hummed softly while the faces on the screen grew bigger …and fuzzier. Facial features blurred together in an array of greys and blacks, and their body movements were choppy at best. _Great_. The guild had paid through the nose for state-of-the-art technology and the resolution was _still_ crappy.

With a frustrated huff, Henri pulled the camera back out to its long shot. The only way he was going to get a clear picture was if the camera was closer. He looked down to the key commands in front of him and spotted the toggle button, a large clear button with a blinking green LED light underneath. He pushed the toggle numerous times, switching between views. The screen flashed through several unhelpful angles, all focusing on the fence and the edge of the property, until finally he came across a camera that was fixed just above the front gate's hinges.

"Whuh? What're they doin' here?"

Henri darted from the dark room to the front of the house, leaving the camera centered directly on the X-Men.

* * *

"Look, there's an intercom _right_ _**there**_! Just call for Mr. LeBeau!" Jean pleaded with the guards, while Colossus and Bishop tried to restrain Rogue from jumping them. 

When neither guard answered, Wolverine stomped up nice and close, lightly pressing one set of claws into each of their abdomens. "I don't have much tolerance fer games, and you two are playin' around with the wrong man."

The second guard tightened his grip around his gun. "An' _I _don' have much tolerance f' threats –"

"Rogue?!" Henri yelled from the doors of the mansion, hopped down the porch steps and quickly made his way to the gates.

"Henri! Oh thank gawd! Ya could not have come at a bettah time, sugah!"

Henri fiddled with the gate, its hinges squeaking miserably as it opened. Rogue flung herself into his arms and hugged him like there was no tomorrow. "Henri, Ah need tah see Jean-Luc! Please! Ah need tah see him now! And they wouldn't let meh in! They laughed at meh! Ah told them but –"

"'Sokay, Rogue. I'll get you to Jean-Luc. 'Sokay." Henri gently rubbed her back, and she withdrew her head that had been buried in his chest, smiling up at him with puffy and watery eyes.

He then turned to address the guards, face stripped of any compassion that it held just moments before. "Why dinn y' call someone?!" He smacked both of them on the back of their heads. "Tha's why dere are two of y'! Count 'em! Deux! At least one of y' could've buzzed us! She's a relative, an' you were about t'draw y' _guns_?!" He stepped to the side to let the X-Men through, but continued to reprimand the guards. "Imbéciles! Vous êtes inutile!"

Once all the X-Men were safely inside, he slammed the gates violently enough so that they rattled. Still, when he spoke to the X-Men, his face was easy and calm as if the whole incident never happened. "'M sorry 'bout dat. Dis way." He smiled pleasantly and gestured up the path leading towards the residence.

"Watch y'step." Henri warned as he welcomed the X-Men into the Thieves' mansion. The front lawn was only a hint of what awaited them inside because just the sight of the main foyer took their breath away. Soft yellow walls rose from wooden floors, detailed trimming work, a high ceiling and Persian rugs; nothing drew your eye as much as the Scarlet O'Hara staircase positioned directly opposite the entrance, a brass chandelier suspended over the middle landing where the stairs forked off in two directions. But elaborateness aside, the house had a quaint quality to it, if that was at all possible. The grandeur didn't overrun the warmth and charm, nor did it make it feel nauseatingly pretentious. Really, quite simply, it felt like home.

"You chav a beautiful home." Colossus remarked as his head swiveled around to examine every inch of detail.

"Merci. Is still pretty new. We built it to accommodate both of my families, d' LeBeaus and de T'ieves. Now Rogue, what's so urgent you need t'speak to Père for? …An' why are y'in dat hospital gown?"

"Henri, it's Remy. He's in trouble - and we need tha Guild's help."

"Remy?" Henri frowned with worry, "Is he going to be okay?"

Rogue looked down, shook her head and shrugged; the wall of thick curls covering her face was jostled as she moved.

If they hadn't been waiting for a reaction, no one would have seen Henri's jaw clench. It was a passing second, right before he nodded and pressed a series of buttons on the wall intercom. He kept reminding himself to keep his cool for Rogue's sake. There was no need to worry her any further… It was just that damn word 'trouble'. There were so many 'troubles' to take into account when dealing with thieves: so many debts piling up, so many enemies hell-bent on revenge…

What kind of mess did his brother get himself into?

"Oui?"

"Mercy, could y'bring one of y'r bathrobes downstairs to de head office? Hurry, please."

"Un peignoir?"

"Oui."

"Pourquoi?"

"We have company." He quickly severed the connection between the intercoms and started walking towards the hall on the right. "X-Men, follow me."

* * *

"It was harder dan we t'ought 'cuz he can change his shape. He's what dey call a 'shape-shifter'. So really, we might've run into him couple of times and not've known." 

"Hmm. That does complicate things." Jean-Luc strummed his fingers on his desk and reclined into his chair. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, methodically breathing in from his nose and out from his mouth.

Jean-Luc was a man familiar with plush furniture and luxuries, a man accustomed to a handsome face and an unnaturally slow receding hair line. After all, Jean-Luc was a man of the New Orleans Thieves Guild, their patriarch to be exact. What he was not used to, however, was incompetence. Just the idea of ineffectiveness irked him. So when he discovered that his guild was carrying _his_ dead weight on their backs, that he _himself_ was failing them as a leader, overworking them for productivity that was anything but productive, Jean-Luc found himself torn – between gut instincts and logic.

Normally his decision making came so easily… not that he hadn't worked hard for it to be that way, because he had. His father had beaten ineptness out of his system at a very young age. As a child he was taught the fine skills of thievery, never living a straight line from thereon in. His whole life was juxtapositions that kept him on the balls of his feet; he developed a unique sense of self that balanced reservation with passion, honour with greed, all mixed together with high expectations. Why should he settle for less? He _thought_ he had become a stronger (and richer) man for it. His life had trained him to make split-second decisions so that they would end fruitfully… but not today. Today he was torn.

He sighed, then sat upright again to face Theoren and Mattie. Theoren Marceaux, his sister's son, his nephew. Black hair, sturdy build and attractive; he had the make of a respectable Thief. The boy was always grateful, always there when his guild needed him the most. Jean-Luc carried a lot of respect for Theoren, just as he did for Mattie - or as his boys called her, Tante Mattie. She was a remarkable black woman that had stood by his family's side for many, many years. But she was more capable than the average person – she was a healer, a sort of spiritual naturopathic nurse. Most importantly, to Jean-Luc, she was a confidante, his close friend. He valued both of their opinions very much, but honestly couldn't understand how _any of them_ would know what to do next.

"Dat Complicates t'ings a lot." He repeated, at a loss of anything better to say.

"Any luck from the other leads?" Theoren asked, and turned his head to Mattie. "Did Henri find de woman dat y'gave him? De one from y' dream… What was her name?"

"Fontanelle, an' no." Tante Mattie gently shook her head, "Is all been inconclusive."

"So… what d'we do?"

"Been askin' myself d'same question." Jean-Luc flicked a piece of dust - or maybe it was lint - off of his desk in a distracted manner, trying to make a decision at the same time as avoiding it.

"What does Henri t'ink?" Theoren inquired.

"Henri t'inks dis is a waste of time, 'n has made his opinion known right from de start. Trust me, juss… don' ask."

"Well, what do you t'ink?"

There it was again. It all kept coming back to this: What would win? Logic or instincts?

"I t'ink…"

The doubt was gone… His gut won out.

"I think we keep searching. Maybe we'll get lucky an' sumt'ing will come up –"

"Père?" Henri's head emerged from behind the door, his body still well out of view. "Sorry for interruptin' but y'got visitors. De X-Men are waitin' outside."

"Oh!" Jean-Luc blinked. "Okay, bring dem in!"

Henri's floating head slipped back behind the door to fetch the visitors. Jean-Luc inclined his head to his nephew, smiling more to himself than to Theoren. "Execusé moi, f'r just one moment, Theoren. By all means, stay, is just Remy."

But 'just' was a gross understatement. Jean-Luc was always overjoyed when his adopted son paid him a visit. In all his years, the most difficult decision he ever made was to watch the Assassins ban his son from the guilds. They sent the young adult out into the world alone, cut him off from the only family he ever had. Yet Jean-Luc loved Remy just as much as his own, and always wanted the best for him. He often thought that removing Remy from a life of crime might have actually been the best thing for the kid… or possibly the worst. He would never know, and that was the thought that haunted Jean-Luc the most.

Jean-Luc shook the thought from his mind, stood from his chair and made his way to stand in front of his desk. He held out his arms towards the door to greet his son, but was shocked when Rogue sauntered in, looking atrociously dishevelled in a hospital gown. Not what he was expecting in the least.

"Rogue?"

Rogue looked as though the slightest breeze could blow her over. There she stood in the middle of the room, unsure of her presence and of her own body, eyes wilting and lip quivering. She gave the sad expression of a beaten puppy, and Jean-Luc half expected her to start whimpering as well.

It was surprising to everyone, including the X-Men that had finished filling up the room, that Rogue wasn't knocked over when Mattie tackled her in an all-consuming hug. However it did manage to knock the maroon blanket off of her right shoulder, causing it to gather at the calf of her left leg and expose some of her backside. But once she was being embraced, Rogue let out a heart-wrenching cry, and each sob thereafter was stifled by the large woman's chest.

"Goodness chile, no worries. Shhhhhh-t-t-t, is okay, Mattie's here."

The commotion jerked Jean-Luc out of shock and into action. He ignored the presence of all the other X-Men and went straight to Rogue. Gently prying her away from Tante Mattie, Jean-Luc placed his hands on her shoulders and looked directly into her bloodshot, yet still beautiful emerald eyes.

"Rogue, what's happened? Whuz wrong?"

"Remy – he – Belle – Donna took – him –" she tried forcing the story out between shuddering breaths.

Mercy unsuspectingly chose that moment to wander into the very stressed room, head down, picking at a loose thread on her bathrobe. "Henri, I don' see why y'need a bathrobe, out of all t'ings. Why –" She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Rogue positioned between the group of X-Men and Thieves, a half-naked wreck.

"Oh dear lord, what happened?!" Mercy flew to Rogue's side and pulled her arms through the terrycloth sleeves of the robe, gasping when she came across the dried cuts and bruises on her back. "Dieu, dieu, dieu, dieu…"

Rogue sniffed, preparing herself to try and start the story again. Jean saw the pain it was causing Rogue and stepped forward to explain for her.

"The Assassins abducted Rogue last night while she was in our infirmary recovering. Gambit agreed to give himself over to the Assassins in exchange for Rogue's safety, so now Rogue's with us, while Bella Donna has Remy."

Scott diverted his eyes by picking off the mud that was caked onto his clothes piece by piece. All of the X-Men stood opposite the Thieves rather lamely; here was a _crime-fighting_ _team_ that had to face a family and tell them that their cousin, their brother, son, whatever, was offered up to a mortal enemy… by that very same team…by Gambit's friends.

Jean-Luc's arms fell to his side, his nostrils flaring wide. "Damn her! …Do dey know y'came here?"

"Not that we know of," Jean continued, "but I tried to contact Gam – Remy" she corrected herself, "by using my telepathic powers, and I couldn't reach him. They have technology to block us out, nullify our powers and prevent us from rescuing him. If we tried to go in without powers, we'd be caught. That's why we came to you… we need your, uh, expertise."

Jean went on to explain the entire ordeal, beginning with the note and the phone call, right up until the guards at the front gate. " –who, by the way, refused to let us in. If Henri hadn't been there, we'd probably still be standing outside yelling."

"Dey said I had **perfect** **timing**!" Henri exclaimed emphatically to Mercy, stressing the last two words. Mercy, Mattie, Jean-Luc and Theoren all shot him a dirty glare. Henri's triumphant smile quickly faded.

"Sorry dat d'guards gave you a rough time." Jean-Luc peeled focus away from his rudely outspoken son and turned back to the X-Men. "Dey're actually not T'ieves. Dey're Assassin moles, but they t'ink we don' know. Useful to have around, mainly to pass false information back to the Assassins."

Tante Mattie looked down at Rogue who was still sniffling in her arms. "Why you faintin' all de time, chile? An' is de baby okay?"

The white grew around Rogue's brilliant green irises, eyes bulging wide. She stepped back in disbelief, only to find the entire room staring back at her.

"Vait, VAT?"

"How –"

"_When_?"

"Holy crap, you gotta be kidding me."

Rogue's head jerked around the room meeting every person's astonished face, and then shot back to Tante Mattie with an expression of total bewilderment on her own. "How did you –?"

"Girl, I'm a healer. 'Smy job t'know dese t'ings."

Rogue stared blankly at Tante Mattie, then at her comrades, then back at Tante Mattie again. "Uhh –" she stammered, sending a pleading look to Hank that screamed _help!_

Beast stepped forward and cleared his throat, speaking openly to the entire room. "Rogue and Gambit have been having difficulty successfully conceiving a child for two years now. No, let me rephrase that. They have had –" he paused for a second for some fast mental math, " –five conceptions, and have suffered through four miscarriages, more accurately referred to as 'early pregnancy losses'. Although not all pregnancies were planned, per say, they are still considered a loss. Some, more traumatic than others." Many of the women scattered around the room nodded in understanding.

"Due to her mutation," He continued, "Rogue's uterus is an inhospitable environment. It leeches off of the zygote's energy, disrupting its early stage of embryonic development. This would cause severe chromosomal abnormalities in the egg, and the pregnancy would end. Now, we are still unsure as to how Rogue's current pregnancy has survived for so long… approximately four months… but our best guess is that it is a surprisingly strong embryo that will produce an equally strong mutant child."

"Ah, C'est manifique!"

"Merveilleux!"

"Oh wow!" Kitty clapped her hands excitedly.

"Yeah, Congrats stripes!"

"Ha! That's great!"

"Zat is so –"

The energy instantly died as Rogue chomped down on her lower lip and Beast shook his head. "I'm afraid that is only half of the story."

With a courteous nod from Rogue, Beast proceeded talking, this time assuming a more sensitive tone. "Rogue's body has not adapted to the pregnancy, and continues to feed off of the embryo. Yet it has survived… by draining the energy back from Rogue. Every time her body attacks it reciprocates with greater force. This has been the cause of Rogue's curious collapses, and what has left her in such a vulnerable state."

Beast licked his lips. Days like this made him question being a doctor. He had already explained this three times, first to the Professor, then to Jean, then to Rogue and Gambit. How many times was he going to have to do this? Yes, it is hard to receive bad news, but just imagine the emotional agony that the person delivering it goes through, especially if they are the doctor _and_ the friend. "We have taken a few possible outcomes into account: A, the most preferable but most unlikely outcome, the child is born relatively healthy with little to no complications; B, Rogue's body rejects the embryo and kills it; or C… with the way things have been going…" Hank began fidgeting with his large blue hands, suddenly transfixed with the dirt under his fingernails.

"C?" Bishop probed.

Hank looked up nervously to his colleagues and friends. "C… the embryo kills Rogue, dying itself shortly after."

No one moved. The air was stale with Hanks last words, as no one dared to tread on that tension. Everyone let it hang there for a moment, praying that they didn't have to be the one to speak first.

"Now I understand." Scott finally said softly. "The conversation I had with Gambit… about taking a life to save another… He wasn't asking if I would kill Jean and Nathan for the team, like I originally thought. He was asking… he was asking who I would save; Jean or Nathan …my wife or my son."

Rogue heaved a tremendous groan and roller her eyes up to the ceiling, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. "He didn't want me tah keep it," she croaked. "We fought bitterly 'bout it, even lost sleep over it. He said he couldn't deal with losin' meh. Hmph," she chortled cynically, "seems like a stupid faght now, seein' that Ah've lost _him_." The end of the sentence dissipated into a tiny squeak of a whimper as she cowered back into Tante Mattie's arms.

Too much information to process all at once… just… too much information. A thought pushed its way forward from the back of Jean-Luc's mind, but by the time it reached the tip of his tongue it was lost. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. He lifted an arm to gesture something, but that was abandoned too. He settled on running his hand over his mouth, feeling the distinction between the patch of beard over his chin and the rest of his clean-shaven skin. Mercy folded her arms tight against her body, switching between fingers as they tapped against her biceps with irritation. Henri placed his hands on his hips and gently rocked back and forth on his feet.

"E'ry time dis girl t'ink she c'n mess wit' whoever she want, whenever she want. But I say, Belle don't got power o'er us anymore. We take him back. Don' worry. We get Remy back." Tante Mattie soothed Rogue's cries by rubbing her back, the rhythm of her hand and voice merging as one with a hypnotic and eerily compelling beat. It was like poetry, the kind you couldn't bring yourself to love because you knew that once you did it would move you, make you act without your own willpower.

Jean-Luc circled his head around his neck to work out the kinks – in his muscles, yes, but also in his plans. He had a plan. Well, actually, he had two. He hated being pessimistic, but in all likelihood the first course of action would probably only end up being a springboard to work from.

"We'll settle all you X-Men here tonight, get t'sleep early so we can wake up early. If we go to de Assassins now, dey'll be ready. Going tomorrow during d'day would be too obvious. We strike way before de sun rises, an' dat way we got a fightin' chance. But I _warn_ y', it's _just_ a _chance_." He looked up to the room, ready for all kind of negative reactions; anger, resentment, astonishment, you name it. He wasn't offering a sure thing right off the bat, and he was sure that would cost him some big popularity points.

Contrary to what he thought, the news turned out to be music to everyone's ears.

"If there is a chance, then so be it." Ororo stepped forward with renewed confidence. "We are the X-Men, Mr. LeBeau. We thrive on chances. We _fight_ for our chances. Otherwise, we would simply cease to exist."

* * *

**SNEAK PEEK:**

Unfortunately, I spent all my efforts on this huge chapter so there isn't a sneak peak. I didn't think it was fair to make you guys wait any longer for me to start writing the next chapter. But what I will do for you is give you a brief idea about what is gonna happen in the next chapter.  
- We'll hear some of Bella Donna's side of the story, including what she's been intending to do with Gambit  
- The X-Men and the Thieves go back to the Assassins hideout and try to get Gambit back. Are they successful? Yes. No? Don't look at me, I was asking you!

* * *

**YOU! Yeah YOU! Who else would I be talking to? ****Please please PLEASE give me some feedback. Please Review! Let's try and get to 10 reviews... because the next chapter shouldn't take to long! ; )**


	8. Poor Little Bug

An Illusive Truth: Part 2  
Chapter 8 – Poor Little Bug

Well look at that! Another post for a seemingly dead story! It's a holiday (or Boxing Day, which ever one you believe in more) miracle!!! As most of you already know, life gets in the way and posts lose priority. But I can promise you this: come hell or high water, this story _will_ be finished, and properly at that. I've put too much thought into the story line to just wrap it up out of laziness, it ain't gonna happen that way.

Which reminds me, I've decided to get rid of Sneak Peeks at the end of each chapter. Don't worry! I'll be posting them on my fan fiction account profile. In fact, you should check out my profile for story update news and time predictions if you're interested. I've already converted to that system, and I find it much more effective. For those who have already taken a gander at my account profile, you might remember that I promised to tell everyone the last word of the last chapter of Part 3.  
And tell you I will. Right now. Are you ready? Here it is: "goodbye."  
Really, I kid you not! _NO_, I'm not going to let it be corny, that would be a horrible way to tie together a trilogy. Actually, I'm trying to get that 'goodbye' to pull at a few heartstrings, if I can.

Seeing as you all took the time to review, I only think it's fair that I personally respond back. Sorry for the length, but if you're really into it, some reviews actually hint at what is coming in future chapters.

**Blackagenda**, hopefully the excitement hasn't died down. Or if it has, hopefully the idea of a new post has riled you up again! **Roguechere**, I didn't want to depress you too much! Though I'm oh so grateful for your review, and the little smiley face with the tongue sticking out assures me that you are okay. **Crack4sure**, I wish I could speak French. I try but I fail. I'm just gonna leave all the French speaking for the LeBeaus, okay? … Oh wait, I wrote them into the story. Well, hopefully I can make do by using the one single phrase I know: "Voulez vouz couché avec moi?" Hmm, maybe that will work for Remy. Or Lapin. Yes, I do believe I was planning on working him into the plot… **Livintodie** and **Livintodie**, I really appreciate both of your reviews. The southern accent is something I'm going to have to watch in future chapters, I suppose I get a little carried away (because it's sooo fun!!!). Maybe you could help coach me through it? And do you happen to know anything about French accents from New Orleans? I have a feeling I'm going overboard with them too. And, I _guess_ one could think of Tante Mattie as a giant cushion…? Nah, I'm just joking. Your wish is my command. Oh and poor **ButterflyRogue**, I changed chapter 7's chapter intro on you! I know it used to have the imaginary friend bit, but it got too long. Since you shared the name of your imaginary friend, I'll share mine: his name is Steve. Obviously, I don't have much of an imagination. Congrats (although it's a bit late now) on getting accepted! Hope you're enjoying student life! I've found that it reveals a lot of people whose secret shames are writing fan fictions. I'm glad my attempt at science made some sort of sense. I dropped science after gr. 10 in high school, and I'm taking it as an elective now in my first year of Uni. Fascinating stuff, I'm planning to work a lot more science into the plot. In answer to your question about the bad-guy, yeesss and nooo. Actually, more no, but there's a few vague yes's buried in there somewhere. Don't you dare apologize for the length of your reviews, or how excited you get about reviewing! I love reading them, and I wish everyone had your attitude! Again, have to give** HopelessRomantic84** credit for the "knight in shining trench coat" bit. I had originally written the traditional word "armour", but when she said "trench coat" in conversation, it seemed much more fitting. I'm doing pretty good, very behind with fan fiction in general, how about you? **Emmymae**, you're too kind! I agree, it's a very sad problem they're having, but I hope for that not to be the focus of their relationship. I wouldn't call myself a depressing person, so even if I deal with a hard-hitting issue, I don't like to look for the negatives. If anything, I try to spin it. Does that give you an answer, or just confuse you even more? If I'm confusing you, then look on the bright side, it will be an even bigger surprise when we get there! …See? I can't help myself. **Enthrll**, I think your name is fascinating (sorry, a cheap pun), especially because my Microsoft Word keeps on trying to autocorrect your name to "Enthrall". I think it's the holiday season's fault that I'm in such a gift-giving mood… **xLebeaux**, it seems that I can't get anything past you! You're too smart. But did you know that she's pregnant with Cody's baby, the guy who's been in the coma? And he won't wake until he receives a brain transplant from Jason, his half-brother that married Anna's twin sister. …or maybe I'm confusing it with "_The Young and the Restless"_… **Iloveromys**, I hope you see a doctor for that cough you have. Oh wait, you wanted me to update faster? Hahahahahhh… woops! Obviously didn't get your subtle hints, because it's, what, half a year later? Hope you're still really involved. Maybe soon, with any luck, you'll even start yelling those words out loud! So **Kashmir**'s not a fast updater either. I think we should start a slow-updating club! We could even try and shift some of the blame to a dial-up connection, or something. Joseph weaseled his way back into the plot on account of him being my whipping boy, but I've got high expectations for his character. **Rina**, I love newbies! Happy reading, and I hope to hear from you again soon!

Basically, I think all that holiday spirit has taken its toll on me because I'll be granting a lot of your wishes (except not the ones on updating faster). And to think that I applied for the job of Santa Clause and the elves turned me down. What a world! I've loved this chapter from the day I began writing this story, and I'm so happy I can finally share it with you guys. It's primarily character development, but I still think you'll all enjoy it!

Thanks for sticking with me!  
Professor Horatio Hufnagel

* * *

DISCLAIMER: No, I don't own any of the Marvel characters, and if anything in my story sounds vaguely familiar, Marvel probably came up with it. I don't intentionally mean to rip off other works! I know, I have a problem, I'm trying to stop. But please, in the meantime, don't sue! I'm just a poor boy from a poor family ... _Dammit!_

* * *

&&&

When he pressed his ear to the door he could hear bits of the muffled conversation on the other side. It was primitive, inconvenient, and a somewhat humiliating technique, but hey, Gambit wasn't about to bash something that worked. Now only if he had a glass or a cup…

"You're the last t'be briefed, so pay attention. Wanna get t'rough dis before she gets back wit' his food – which reminds me, don' let him get more from de kitchen cause we wanna keep his stamina low. Can't break out if he don' got de energy for it no more, hein?."

The two guards shared a chuckle, and Remy used the pause in conversation to switch ears.

"Show me your communication device… Press dis button for de fifteen-minute check. You miss pressing it once – yeah, all it takes is once – and y' gonna get a man from central control calling o'er frequency two t'check up on ya. You don't respond, dey send in back-up. So don' fall asleep on y'feet or nuttin', just press de damn button every fifteen minutes. See dis button? Walkie-talkie frequency one. Y' got a problem, gotta pee, got a knife in de back, press de button to talk. S'dat simple. You already know dis stuff, can I move on? …Question?"

"Rotation's every hour?"

"But your replacement should arrive five minutes early. If no one comes, radio in to central control. Gives us time t'find a replacement before shifts're over. An' dat way, if dere _is_ a problem, each of the other posts will have extra reinforcements."

"Why d'we got only one guard here? I t'ought dat de other posts have –"

"- Deux, oui, but Belle don' want him gett'n de feeling of bein' a prisoner… I know, I know, is strange… but she says to t'ink of dis post as a 'personal escort'. Talk to him, take him 'round de mansion…"

He had to hand it to Bella Donna, the girl knew her stuff. Every entrance and exit manned, every guard operating under a detailed schedule, power negators blanketing every inch of the property… By the sound of things, she wasn't about to let her plans fall victim to any unforeseen circumstance. Unfortunately, this also ruled out one "astounding escape" to be made by Remy LeBeau.

But why? What possessed her to go to such lengths in the first place?

His concentration was broken when a familiar honeyed voice appeared on the scene, sending the two guards into a frenzy of shuffling feet and jingling keys. Gambit didn't need a personal invitation - he moved away from the door, rushed towards the fireplace and sat down on the plush burgundy sofa by the coffee table. The doorknob turned in place to let Bella Donna enter the bedroom, a silver platter of food balanced between her arm and right hip. It figured that she of all people would find some sort of perverse pleasure in personally delivering his dinner. His eyes followed her as she crossed the room to place the tray down on the table before him.

"Runnin' a tight shift around here, eh Belle?"

She stood up straight, her expression loose, with only the teensiest hint of a smile pulling across her face. "Eat. Please."

Admittedly, it _had_ been a while since Gambit had eaten anything, and the platter of food did look good… but he would be damned to see her get the upper hand. Instead, he chose to play with the tassels of a throw pillow to distract himself from his grumbling stomach.

"D'you like this room?" She started conversationally.

It took a lot of effort on his part to offer something bigger than a non-committal grunt.

"'S big."

"This doesn't have t'be prison, you know. En fait, it isn't your prison. C'est votre maison."

He stared up at her with an unblinking and smoldering look, a great show of power for someone sitting in a position like his. "My _home_ is wit' de X-Men."

She hesitated, and then gave a single nod. It was not wasted on Gambit that this simple gesture of defeat recognized Gambit as an equal, an act that was totally uncharacteristic of Belle. But what really surprised and worried him was her genuine attempt to be considerate; she was careful enough to leave a foot of space between them when she sat next to him on the couch.

They sat in strained silence for a while, staring off in different directions. Occasionally she picked away at his garden salad, relieving the plate of the odd cherry tomato or strip of green pepper.

"Mebbe you should just _eat_ the salad? We both know Remy not going to."

She stopped mid-bite into a cucumber slice, taken aback by his straightforwardness. "Non, sorry. It's for you." She placed the uneaten vegetable half into a napkin and set it aside. In keeping with the same confrontational spirit, Belle whipped her head to the side and searched Remy's face with her eyes, imploring for him to meet her gaze.

"When did y'stop lovin' me?"

"Quoi?"

"I asked when y'stopped lovin' me."

Gambit thought he must have looked like an idiot. He sat there, in complete shock, defenseless against her openness. It took a second to compose himself before formulating the best retort he had, which really wasn't much.

"That's a loaded question."

"An' that's a load of bull. Please, gimme an answer."

His jaw clamped down tightly as he let a steady stream of air in and out through his nose. He needed one last moment to mentally berate himself for what he was about to say.

"Well…" he drew out the first word in a devastatingly slow manner, "…didn't actually _stop_, Belle, and –"

* * *

"- Remy will _never_ stop loving you," he cooed in her ear, skillfully sneaking his hand up her buttoned blouse. 

"Stop it, Remy! Not till we're married." She giggled, slapping his hand away playfully. "_Mon Dieu! _I can't believe we're going t'be married soon!"

Young Bella Donna Boudreaux and Remy LeBeau lounged dozily on a stretch of grass near the swampland, enjoying the simple pleasure of being the other's company. During hot summer days such as this, it was a rare treat for them to meditate together by the bayou. The coming of dusk was an even bigger splendor; the sun's vibrant pallet of fiery reds and oranges bled into the lush green treetops, while frogs croaked in time to the bulrushes swishing tunefully in each passing wind. It was a symphony of sound and colour, all coming together just for them.

Gambit was personally grateful for having a serene place to hide out with Belle – if not only for making their several romping sessions possible, then for giving him time to mull over his thoughts. Both he and Belle were being bombarded with responsibilities lately, and it did them both good to get away from the constant pressures of the Guilds. In many ways, their therapeutic visits to the swamp allowed them to… clear their heads.

In particular, the thought of marriage had been swimming around Remy's head a lot the last couple of weeks. At first he regarded it as a stress that would weigh him down for the rest of his life. Yet the more evenings he spent like this, alone with Belle, the more he felt at ease. He discovered a kind of happiness: with her, with belonging to a family, with marriage…

In fact, marriage, the prospect of being tied down – all of it didn't seem so scary anymore. Actually, it sounded good...

Smiling devilishly, he leaned over and lightly planted a kiss on her lips.

…It sounded really good…

She let out a moan of approval as his mouth drew a line down the soft flesh of her neck.

…Kinda _really _good…

* * *

" – Is just that, I finally realized what our love _was_, Belle. It wasn't right. Not in de least." 

"Whud'ya mean, 'not right'? All I've ever wanted wuz f'r us to be together!" Bella Donna placed her left hand on his knee and leaned in closer. Excitement danced about her face as she spoke, just like when they were teens and she would catch him sneaking in through her bedroom window. Under any other circumstance, Gambit might have actually found the act to be somewhat sweet… endearing, even.

"Remy, we can still be so much together! We c'n have kids 'n start a family! Just _t'ink_ 'bout what dat means, or what we'd be capable of! We'd be a united front runnin' de Unified Guild!"

"'S a nice image, Belle, but it's not gonna happen."

"And _why_ _not_?" she persisted. Her voice was getting louder. "I'd do it all to be with you!"

"Dat you would."

"So if you can see that I'd do it for you, den what's –?"

"No, not for me. F'r your own selfish reasons."

Her grip on his leg tightened. "I love you!" she all but practically growled.

"Remy sees love as sacrifice. And not just de little things, but big things. Rogue, she gave up her fears f'me, and cause o' dat we can touch now. She'd been livin' wit dem fears her whole life - relyin' on dem like a crutch or a security blanket – but she stripped herself free of dem when she saw what it wuz gunna take to make us work. You chère…well, the only thing you ever given up in your entire life is your soul."

His words cut into Belle so deeply that she actually recoiled in anguish. It was a strike that hit her square in the chest, it was harsh, and it hurt. And it needed to be said. Her hand jumped from his knee to her hair, quickly pushing a stray blond bang out of her face. Her hand lingered by her ear a fraction of a second longer, just long enough to comfort her from the pain of dejection that worked its way around her face. By the time Bella Donna's hand came to rest on her lap, her eyes were already reinstated with a bitter stare. "So where'd all dese pearls a' wisdom come from?"

He shrugged, "Grew up I guess."

She rose to her feet silently, keeping her focus down at him through narrowed slits. She had gained her composure back now, seeing as standing made it so much easier to feel bigger. "I wuz _offering_ a place by my side as a privilege, Remy, but I _demand_ a son."

It wasn't until her hand was tightly gripped around the brass doorknob at the other end of the room that she decided to glare back over her shoulder at Gambit. "Enjoy de rest of your dinner." And with one impressive swoop, she slammed the door in its framing. A violent tremor travelled through the floorboards and up into the walls, causing the gilded picture frames and mirrors to rattle in her wake.

Gambit sighed and looked out through the room's balcony windows to a stretch of New Orleans marshland. The sun's bronze tail, which had just about sunk below the tree line, was now drawing down the indigo curtain of night sky along after it. He was immediately reminded of his adolescence, how he used to think of stars as holes in a tapestry which let through the light from the other side. In this way, night time would just mean that it was daytime somewhere else...

* * *

Remy finally let go of Bella Donna after sharing an embrace that seemed to last forever. The heat of the day had energized the air around them so much so that they still felt its presence, even long after the sun had set. Crickets chirping, the moonlight quavering in the water's reflection, the undertone of buzzing insects – for a time that was supposed to be quiet, it all seemed so very loud. That's probably why he always felt so connected to the Big Easy; the city came alive at night, never slept, left people free to celebrate activity round the clock. And Remy was _always_ up for a bit of adventure in his life. 

Both were reclined on the grass, Remy with his hands resting behind his head, when Belle decided to break the silent spell. "I won at a game of poker 'gainst Julien de other day," she began. "Père was so proud o' me, said he's gunna get me anudder car."

"Ya?"

Remy had never been a fan of Bella Donna's brother, and it was no secret that Julien felt likewise about Remy. In fact, one could say that the feelings both harboured for each other were respectably short of brotherly love. Yet both were under strict orders to be civil, Jean-Luc and Marius made sure of it. So although Remy didn't like to promote the way Belle sought attention, he couldn't help but revel in the fact that Julien's overinflated ego was taken down a notch.

"Père says dat if I got th'smarts to outwit Julien, then there's a promising future ahead of me." A whistful glaze passed over her eyes. "He's pushed my training up again, before de twentieth. Now, not only am I gonna be trained in marshal arts, but also in actual Assassin business! I've been briefed in history so far, so I t'ink he'll introduce me to the politics next. Maybe I'll meet some clients, like what Julien got t'do on his birt'day! Pro'lly more important ones, seein' dat Père's been toying wit' d'idea of going international…"

"Mmhmm." Gambit was phasing in and out of the conversation, totally disinterested with what Marius might or might not do. The LeBeaus had always shared a dislike for the Assassin Leader's child-rearing abilities; Remy had even heard Jean-Luc grumble about it when they were little kids. Anyone could plainly see that Marius pitted his own children against one another, making them compete for his love. Frankly, Remy was just as tired of hinting to Belle that her father might be taking advantage of her, she just kept missing the point. Once again, he found it easier to let her voice pass through one ear and out the other, throwing in the occasional nod or noise to give the illusion of listening. He would concentrate on the stars above, and how their twinkling was kind of hypnotic…

"Was it Monique, or Sophie?"

"P-pardonnez-moi?"

Bella Donna propped herself up on her elbows so that she could get a better view of Remy. "Don't play dumb with me. Was it Monique or Sophie?"

He had almost totally forgotten about his little run-in with Monique last week. She was the local café's server and the local beauty, an exotic looking girl with chocolate brown eyes and seductively long legs. She really was a sexy little thing, and Remy always was a sucker for lively and energetic girls. It wasn't like it had meant anything to him, though, other than just amazing sex. Besides, he really had thought this one would be hard to top… until Nicolette. Man, did he ever stand corrected.

But that was an entirely different story that Belle need never know anything about. No, he just had to bite the bullet this one time and come clean. Belle would know if he was lying to her, there really was no other alternative.

Remy shifted his weight forward so that he was now sitting upright, a better position to defend himself against flying fists.

"Monique."

"Was she any good?"

"Whuh?"

Belle joined him in sitting crossed legged, but twisted her upper torso to the side so that she could lock Remy in a piercing stare. "Was – she – any – _good_?"

That couldn't be a normal reaction…could it? As the first thing to come out of a girl's mouth when she finds out her fiancé's cheating on her? Remy stared back at Belle confidently, almost defiantly. Part of him was inviting her to yell… that _would_ be a more normal reaction…

"Oui."

Bella Donna turned forwards again, looking completely satisfied. She even looked positively gleeful when she spotted the small bug on the ground. She leaned over to pick it up and began playing with it, cupping it in her hands, watching it crawl from finger to finger.

"You didn't have t'spend the rest of the day with me Remy, not if y' didn't want to… But you did, didn't you?"

She brought the bug back to the ground in front of her, this time placing her hands on either side of it like a barricade. She watched as the bug scurried about frantically.

"You love me, don't you? 'Cuz you came back t'me."

She released her hands to let the bug run around on its own accord, yet still making sure to keep it in tow. When it would try to run, she would push it back to her with her fingers.

"I'm glad it wuz you who Papa and th'Guilds forced me to marry. Worked out perfectly, non?"

Suddenly, marriage didn't sound so good to Remy. Sounded bad, like an arrangement, or a trap. He wanted to cheat on her all over again. Gotta run, gotta get out…

Finally, the bug managed an escape while Bella Donna was distracted. When she eventually noticed, she just frowned devilishly and watched it run away from her. But before it could get too far out of reach she raised her foot and slammed it down…one clean vigorous stomp.

Poor little bug didn't know what hit him.


	9. Complications

An Illusive Truth: Part 2  
Chapter 9 – Complications  
Professor Horatio Hufnagel

I told you I wasn't going to let this story die! The one thing I _can_ promise you guys is that this story _will_ be finished, I've got too much already outlined for it to be dropped. Now as to when it'll be finished… that's a whole different issue. A lot has happened to me in half a year. I mean, my life is normally crazy, but this has been _especially_ nuts. But it's not all bad, so I'm not really complaining.

Anyways, as a sort of consultation for this ridiculously long wait I wanted to give you a little insight into where this fanfic is heading (but I'm keeping it kinda short cuz you're here to read the chapter, not my ramblings). Well…I like round numbers. Chapter 10 is going to have _sooo _much of the plot explained, it's not even funny. And it's going to be really fun to do, too, because I've always really liked the idea of X-Men/Thieves interactions – and when I say "Thieves", I mean the lot of them . I've also got a lot finished in regards to the 3rd part of the trilogy. I knew exactly where this whole story was headed right from the beginning (2 years ago), but now I've worked on the science of it… and I mean that literally.

As always, I've got some shout-outs to do:  
**Roguechere**, you always make me laugh!! And I can't believe I didn't think of having Belle break out into a little musical number that revealed her diabolically evil plot. I could have made it into a musical, sold it on broadway, adapted it into a movie, and then I would've been rich! Mwahahah! (and you wonder where Belle gets it from?) **EnderW20**, you caught me, the jig is up. I'm sorry lol. I'm very very very happy to hear the story feels true to the characters! Hope you'll stay with the story because it's going to get even better – soon you'll find out that Rogue's real mother is a Walrus that came from the moon!... Damn. **ButterflyRogue**, I gotta say, the whole "wannabe-humorous lines" thing was pretty …humorous. I mean, I laughed! And you had such sweet things to say! Thank you! If you do end up printing it out, make sure to use both sides of the paper… and it'll still be long lol. **Crack4sure**, I've disappointed you. But hopefully you'll forgive me for posting it months later when you read this chapter?! Fingers crossed… (oh and, LeBeau mansion it is). **Cocopucks** (is that a name of a cereal?) and **Night-Escence**, Thank you so much for your reviews! I love when new readers start in on the story, it really gets me excited! I hope you'll like it!

At first I was kind of worried about how interesting chapter 9 would be, but when I started writing it, some really cool quips and scenarios worked their way in on their own. There are some Prof. HH originals here… so I really hope you enjoy yourselves! Thanks for sticking with me… Now ON WITH THE SHOW!

* * *

&

Remy was there with her, so she knew that it couldn't be real. Truthfully, there was no doubt in Rogue's mind that it was a dream. She liked to think that, like sleep, dreams were the most therapeutic time for healing, and she was definitely one to need that time; she had the extra bonus of sorting through the pilfered memories crowding her head, in an effort to discover what experiences were really hers, and what belonged to those she had absorbed. It wasn't as if lucid dreams were a new experience for her, and it didn't much surprise her that the Cajun was still on her mind… but honestly, this was just a damn tease.

She was lying in bed, on her side, with him lying right behind her. She could smell his cologne; she could feel his chin stubble tickling the nape of her neck; the warm air from his nose travelling down her arm and exposed spine – it left a wonderful tingling sensation on her skin that felt so _real,_ it gave her chills.

She wanted _so badly_ for it to be real. But despite herself, there was this nagging sensation in the pit of her stomach that drew her away from him – an unsettling anticipation spread across her body like a heat wave. It festered for a bit in her lower gut, turning smoothly until it began to rise…

She wished that she could lose herself in the illusion she had created, but knew she couldn't. She knew that if she dared to move, all the good she felt might simply slip away. Her airway felt restricted. Her head started to throb. Intense hotness began to claw at the base of her esophagus. All she could concentrate on was the pain and how much everything hurt and how the tension made her feel like crying. She squeezed her eyes closed and began to pitch forwards woozily as the sickly warm sensation began to crawl up the back of her throat…

And then his arm brushed past her midriff and caught her. He grabbed her snugly under her ribcage and, without a word, gently guided her body to rest back up against his own. His feet slid through the bed to find hers, and he pushed his knees forward a bit to let his entire body spoon her in an embrace. In that instant, when Remy pulled her closer, her nausea subsided.

They were flesh against each other now, his heart beating into the back of her shoulder, her chest rising and falling with his breathing. She closed her eyes and slowly let herself relax into his arms, releasing muscles she hadn't even noticed were tensed. It was like she deflated, and there was more of him to drape over her and surround her with. All those pent-up tears she was holding back finally escaped with a contented sigh. The wetness of her tears attracted cool air, and any uncomfortable warmth dissipated into what could only be described as an uncomfortable memory. The world could have been falling apart around them and Rogue still would have felt perfectly satisfied to just lie there for hours on end, wrapped snuggly in her husband's arms.

She felt connected with Remy in a way she found hard to describe: it was more than just comfort; it was like he was telling her that he was with her, and that he always would be. Nothing else mattered. She smiled, and snuggled deeper into the cozy crook between his underarm and chin. She swiveled around to face him and opened her eyes, only to find herself wrapped up in a sea of bed sheets.

Alone.

Again.

For a good fifteen minutes she just lay there in silence. She couldn't bring herself to move. She couldn't even bring herself to think, or the reality of her dream might overwhelm her. More than anything, she just wanted to numb herself all over, not feel anything anymore. Not again, not ever.

And then it struck her that that was never going to happen. There was no 'pause' button in life, that's what dreams were for.

She convinced herself to take tiny steps, the first step to conquer being the bed. Her reasoning was that if she could somehow make it feel smaller, then the day would be that much more manageable. She tried to spread her legs so that they could reach the corner posts, but she was too far off. She tried to reach her arms to each side of the bed, stretching every muscle in her body, using her fingers to inch as close to the edge as they could… but again she couldn't make it. Just as she resigned to the fact that she was just going to have to stay where she was, once again ready to slip away into her dreams, the alarm on the night stand began to scream at her.

"Yeah, yeah, Ah got it. Everyone's against me."

Out of sheer desperation to end the incessant screeching, Rogue sat up to flip the switch off (though she had half a mind to flip it off, too). The reddish illumination of "3:10 AM" shone back at her just to spite her. Groggily, she moved to the middle of the bed and propped her back up with the two pillows she had used for sleeping, minding not to disrupt the huge wall of decorative pillows splayed across the headboard. She figured that if she had actually moved them, she never would've remembered which order to put the pillows back in.

She looked around her room – there really was nothing special to see in the dead darkness of the morning hours. The only thing she could make out was her bed, with more and more of its details revealing themselves as her sight adjusted. It was only when she looked up at the sheer white canopy strung above her head that she realized she was trying to swallow that uncomfortable ball of warmth again. Her stomach started to churn as she thought about how weak she had become without him. She, of all people, hated feeling weak. It made her feel like vomiting.

A sudden spike of heat made her snap up into a full sitting position.

_No_, that wasn't upset. That was actual vomit.

She kicked her legs violently to free herself from the comforter, shot off the bed and ran a bee line to the garbage can.

* * *

"For a kitchen at 3-o-clock in tha mornin', it sure's bright in here."

After throwing on a pair of slacks and a tee shirt that Mercy had left out for her, Rogue conquered the difficult task of finding her way around an unfamiliar estate at night. She had managed the journey down the dark staircase, and was guided through the corridors by the low voices from behind a door on the main floor. She hadn't been prepared, however, for the onslaught of fluorescent light that nearly blinded her as she entered the kitchen.

"Mornin', darlin'."

Once her eyes settled, Rogue found it easier to focus on the faces staring up at her. The X-Men were gathered around a rectangular wooden table, generously helping themselves to the mound of food spread out before them. Jean, Jubilee and Logan sat furthest away from where she stood, while Piotr, Kitty and Ororo turned in their seats to face and greet her. To her left, Bobby sat at the head of the long table while Mercy hovered over his shoulder with a skillet of pancakes, flourishing her spatula in the air to wave Rogue in.

"Bonjour Rogue! Please, join us! Take a seat!"

Wolverine casually kicked the leg of the last free chair between him and Storm, pushing it out from under the side of the table. Rogue obliged, and silently slid into her seat directly across from Iceman.

"'M sorry for de lack o' food variety," Mercy motioned to the fruit basket and cereal boxes at the centre of the table, then slipped another pancake onto Bobby's plate, "but it's so early, our kitchen staff is sleeping."

"Lucky them." Kitty mumbled as she poured herself a glass of milk. Piotr elbowed her as he reached for his knife. "– Ow! Hey, I wasn't the only one thinking it!"

"No, really, it looks like your cookin' has gone an' made up for it." Rogue watched as Mercy scuttled over to the old-fashioned stove to restock with a brand new batch of pancakes. "Thanks again for your hospitality."

"Not a problem, chère. Now, one pancake or two?"

"Oh, Ah don't think mah stomach's gonna agree with any food right now." Rogue immediately thought back to her morning date with the garbage can.

"Nonsense, you need nourishment! Make me happy, 'n at least have one." In a flash, Mercy had appeared at Rogue's side, already shoveling a pancake onto a plate to place it in front of her. "You sleep okay?"

It was such a normal thing for a host to ask, but the question really embarrassed Rogue. She knew exactly why it did, too, and she just couldn't deal with thinking about it again so early in the morning. She didn't bother look up from her plate to answer. "Yeah, fine thanks."

"It's just not fair."

At this, everyone, including Rogue, turned to face Jean.

"I mean, the woman is – what, around four months pregnant? – and is barely even showing!" Grinning, Jean made a point to capture Rogue's attention with her eyes. "At that stage, I already looked like I was shoplifting a melon – cantaloupe, at best."

Everyone chuckled a bit, and Rogue couldn't help crack a smile herself.

"It's true!" Jean persisted. "You know what Mercy? Give her another helping of pancakes."

A few laughs later and the room had quickly settled into a calm round of chatter. There was a light-hearted air about it once again; people were either distracted with filling their plates and mouths, or carrying on with individual conversations. Relieved, Rogue mouthed a silent 'Thank you' to her friend, and then let Jean pick up on a mentally projected image of Rogue in two month's time, pointlessly struggling to conceal a watermelon under her green spandex uniform. At which point, both women broke out in a telepathic fit of laughter.

Mercy watched the two X-Women grin impishly at each other for what seemed to be an excessively long time. Feeling slightly the confused outsider, she moved on to tackle the stacks of dishes by the sink. "Could've sworn we had more people in dis house..."

And not a moment sooner, Jean-Luc traipsed through the kitchen door with Henri, Cyclops and Bishop at his heels.

"Ah. Speakin' of le diable…"

"Me? The devil?" Henri strode to his wife's side and wrapped an arm over her shoulder. "Y' don' really mean dat, do you Merce? Din' seem to t'ink so last night in –"

"Henri! Arrêt! Fermez la bouche!" Mercy snapped, turning beet-red.

Bishop leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms. "So the overconfident arrogance _is_ a family thing."

"Hey Cyke, where's the 'Blue Man Group' at?" Bobby inquired.

"If you are in part referring to me, Robert, I sincerely hope you are not insinuating that I shave my head, it would look rather frightful." Hank meandered into the kitchen with a dubious smile. "But I am present, yes."

"Und ich bin auch hier." Nightcrawler bamfed right next to where Jean-Luc was standing, causing the man to nearly jump out of his skin. "Ah, meine apologies. I often forget zat it takes some getting used to."

"Alright, now that we're all here…" Scott walked over to stand behind Jean, resting his hands on her shoulders, "The few of us got a head start on planning this morning's strategy, so here's what we've worked out: We're taking the X-jet, it's the most efficient way to transport all of us. Once we're at the Assassin's complex, Wolverine – you and Bishop will take out the electrical power supply; the external entrance cable for the electricity is located on the north-east wall of the estate."

Logan took a swig from his orange juice glass. "Cut the power. Got it."

"The power suppressors will then be down," Cyclops continued, "so we'll be able to use our powers. Also, it will buy us some time to enter in to the building, as they'll probably want to check the electrical service panel in the basement. Still, we'll have to move fast. It seems the best thing to do is position ourselves in groups at different entrances to cover more ground. This way, the groups will be taking on the majority of the Assassins' resistance. Nightcrawler, you'll be with Bishop and Jubilee; Colossus, with Bobby; Storm, Jean-Luc, Henri and I will advance through the front doors first, and then the rest of you will follow from your designated entrances. Kitty, you'll regroup with Wolverine on the northwest wall to phase him in – they won't be expecting anyone to come through a wall, so I think you two'll be free of confrontation."

"Sure thing." Kitty nodded.

"Whoever finds Gambit first, get him out safely. Beast and Jean will be waiting outside for you when you get out." Cyclops inclined his head down to Jean. "Hank might need your help to carry Gambit to the jet, or help with anything else medical." He looked up again to address the entire room. "We leave as soon as you all finish eating, so hurry it up."

"Where does that leave me?"

Scott's head shot to Rogue. He was visibly taken aback that she'd even ask. "You won't be there."

"Like hell Ah won't!" She protested.

"But…" Cyclops didn't even know where to start; he honestly thought everything was self explanatory. "Look, you don't even have your uniform here."

"So Ah'll go like this."

"Okay, fine," he reasoned with slight agitation, "but you'll wait outside of the jet for him. I'm placing you on temporary inactive status."

Rogue glared back at her leader with gritted teeth. She knew one of them would have to compromise, and she knew that this time it was going to be her. She laid a napkin across her lap, grudgingly admitting defeat. "Pass the syrup."

Piotr lifted the cereal boxes and fruit basket up from the table, while Bobby placed his hand down on the wood. Immediately after doing so, ice began to crystallize down the length of the table.

"Heads up!"

He slid the bottle of syrup across the sheet of ice, and it slowed to a stop right in front of Rogue. She smiled appreciatively and picked it up to pour on her pancakes.

"So, can someone remind me again why we have to wake up in the wee hours of the morning?"

Cyclops moved to grab a free chair from the corner of the room, pulling it up to the corner of the table to sit beside Jean. "Because, Bobby, this is the least likely time for an attack."

"Not what I meant. Why has this become such a serious deal? No offense, but it's not like the X-Men have never dealt with a kidnapping before. And our enemies aren't even full-fledged _mutants_. Doesn't sound like much of a fight to me."

Henri leaned over to swipe an apple from the bowl on the table. "You underestimate your opponent. The assassins are trained for murder."

Bobby shrugged and shoveled a forkful of syrupy pancake into his mouth. "The X-Men are trained to _deal_ with murderers."

"Even still, Bella Donna is very calculating." Jean-Luc added. "Don't think dat she hasn't taken all of dis into consideration. She has plans lain out here, and doesn't intend fo' dem to be meddled with. Is why we gotta t'ink three steps ahead."

"I just _hate_ going into situations head-first, and blindfolded." Cyclops leaned back into his chair. "If only we could guess what her motives are…"

Jean-Luc shifted uncomfortably on his feet. He glanced over at Henri, who in turn shot his father a warning glare. Jean-Luc struggled inwardly with himself for several moments before finally deciding to open his mouth. Despite what the rest of the Guild would think, he knew he had to just out and say it. And he knew it had to be now. "_It's now or never, LeBeau…"_

"Alright, fine," Bobby spurted out, waving his fork around in thought, "but it's Gambit we're talking about here! The G-Man has never had any problems taking care of himself."

And just like that, Cyclops' point of interest was forgotten.

Logan turned his whole chair to face Bobby. "Think about it, kid. Bella Donna ain't just some dumb criminal who picked th'wrong person to screw with. The two of 'em… they got history."

"So?" Bobby persisted impatiently.

"Ugh, noo." Kitty groaned, burying her face in her hands.

"**_So,_**" Jubilee addressed her fellow X-Man's ignorance with irritation, "don't you think she'll use that to her advantage? Let's put it this way: if Gambit's freedom came down to something like…oh, I don't know… **killing Bella Donna**, do you think he'd** do it**?"

Rogue's eyes shot up from her plate. Someone's cutlery fell to the table with a commotion of clanks, though no one knew or cared exactly who was responsible because everyone was too busy watching Bobby and Rogue stare at each other from across the table.

Bobby was dumbfounded… and trapped. There was no right answer to such a question. His eyes darted from person to person for help, but he found himself totally alone.

"_Well_?"Jubilee remained steadfast.

Bobby's eyes eventually found their way back to Rogue. He wanted nothing more than to backtrack and forget about all the questions – he didn't think she needed to hear this. He only wanted to protect her. "_Too late now,_" He thought to himself. "_Sorry, Rogue._" He sheepishly diverted his eyes back down to his breakfast, where he began pushing the pancakes around in a pool of syrup with his fork.

"Guess not." he muttered quietly into his plate.

A weight formed in the pit of Rogue's stomach. She looked down at the food in front of her with distain and pushed it away. "Thanks, Mercy, for the lovely breakfast, but Ah've completely lost mah appetite. Think Ah'll go throw up the contents of mah stomach once more before we go." Her chair scraped across the checkered-tiled floor as she rose to exit the room.

Logan waited until Rogue was well out of the kitchen before giving Jubilation Lee a good rap on the head.

* * *

It truly was a wonder how an aircraft could be so slender and sleek, yet still feel spacious enough with a whole horde of people crowded into it. It was one of the many things Cyclops admired about the Blackbird, especially at a time when both X-Men and New Orleans Thieves shared the space. It allowed Scott to have his controls and his seat and his space. He needed his room to think.

And knowing that it was _only_ because he had just given the thought any amount of consideration, he now had the distinct feeling that someone was hovering over his left-hand shoulder. Sure enough, when he turned around he found Jean-Luc standing before him, like a Lieutenant would before a General.

"Cyclops, I wanted t' thank you."

"For?"

"Well, f'r sending your men into a dangerous situation like dis, for one."

Scott laughed tensely, feeling rather self-conscious about receiving this kind of praise. "We wouldn't ever do anything less. He's family."

As soon as the words left his mouth Scott realized it was the wrong thing to say. "I mean…we consider him –"

"That's alright. I'm very glad you said it." Jean-Luc's smile was warm, but there was a distinguishing sadness to his eyes. "My only hope is dat one day Remy'll see me th'same way again, too. You have to understand, I never meant to abandon him. I saw the scandal wit' Julien t' be an opportunity for him to start a better life."

Scott fought to ignore his own mental manifestations of Sinister comforting a young Remy LeBeau while he struggled to control his powers, of Sinister handing him a vile of grey matter that would forever leave the man indebted to the devil…

"But there's no excusin' th'fact dat I sent a young man into th' world alone."

Scott shook his head. "Things aren't always right or wrong. You tried to make the best decision you could, and I get that."

Jean-Luc smiled graciously and clapped the X-Man on his shoulder. "You're a good leader, Scott."

Cyclops returned the smile.

"Just – take it from a man who's made his share of mistakes…" Jean-Luc turned his attention over to the front of the jet where a distracted Jean was fiddling with piloting controls. "Make sure dat '_leading'_ doesn't overshadow family."

"Cyclops," Storm called from the front of the jet, "we have arrived at our co-ordinates."

Knowing his duty, Jean-Luc clapped Scott on the shoulder an extra time before turning to leave for his landing seat. Scott's expression quickly deteriorated from proud to sour as he made the transition back to being Cyclops, the Leader. "Yeah. Fine. Prepare for landing."

* * *

The partly-hidden, overgrown Victorian-style manor was a spectator of the nature that surrounded it. It was privy to oversee the land's beauty, like when the sun would roll over the trees in the morning. This particular morning, when the sun was just about to creep up on the deep blue sky, the manor was witness to an unusual change of pace for Louisiana marshland: an unexpected, but much appreciated breeze cut through the muggy air. The insects and pollen caught a ride in the current, while the trees bowed and danced and rustled their leaves. And nearby, hidden amongst those trees, an equally beautiful weather witch lowered her arms.

"Thanks for the cover Storm, we're in position." Bishop's voice crackled over the uniform communicators.

"No one was heard?" Cyclops whispered into his suit. He stood with Storm, Henri and Jean-Luc at the front of the property, well veiled by pre-dawn darkness.

The collective responses of his team ran through the communicator,

"Nope."

"Nuh-uh."

"Nein."

"Nope."

He surveyed the clearing for a shadow, a movement, anything that would give away his X-Men's positions, but everyone was completely hidden. He glanced over his shoulder to where the three dark body outlines of Jean, Beast and Rogue waited silently. Everything was set.

"Alright then," Cyclops glanced uneasily at Storm, Henri and Jean-Luc, still finding that he had to squint to make out their faces. He motioned his group to take a step towards the manor, crossing into a halo of soft light carried over from the porch lights.

Cyclops pressed the communicator button on his suit. "Wolverine, now!"

From there, it only took seconds for the electrical hum to slow, and the porch bulbs to flicker off. The Assassins' manor sat in complete darkness.

It was go time.

"Okay team," Cyclops commanded quickly, "on my word –"

"Wait! Scott!"

Cyclops whipped around to find Jean standing behind him with two fingers pressed to her temples.

"Not yet!"

Although she was looking at him, it felt more like she was looking through him.

He recognized that look. Cyclops hurriedly brought his hand to the communicator, "Hold on –"

"Scott!" Jean-Luc demanded from beside him, "They gotta go now! They're losin' time!"

"Cyke?" a rushed voice asked over the communicator.

He was feeling the pressure – he knew that they only had a small window to send the groups into the building, but that leeway was slowly ticking away.

Jean-Luc was looking absolutely panicked. "C'mon! **Now**!"

"**Everyone**, **_wait_**!" Cyclops half-growled into his communicator. He was their leader; he knew what he was doing. More importantly, he knew what Jean was doing.

* * *

"What happened?" Bella Donna barked at a guard standing outside her bedroom. She had been sleeping until a flurry of feet ran down the hallway in front of her door and woke her up. And instead of seeing a well-lit corridor when she stuck her head outside to check, she found more darkness, accompanied by a guard with a gun.

He jumped at the sound of her voice, which appeared to materialize out of nowhere. It took him a moment to locate her face. "Lights 'r out."

"Well I can **see dat**!" She stepped forward and reached for his walkie-talkie. "Closest guard, check location 5A for –"

"'M standing wit' him right now," a guard replied from over the walkie-talkie, "he's still here."

"Good."

She began walking assertively towards Remy's room, her pale nightgown trailing in a fury of fabric behind her.

"Did you locate d' source of de problem?"

A different voice interjected this time. "No Ma'am, we got men on that right now."

"Is anyt'ing still operational?"

"Interior lights, down. Exteriors, down. Power suppressor, down. Cameras…" a lot of clicking on the other end, then "…down."

"Fifolet, we're under attack. Get as many guards as possible at each post, den organize your men to get our power back up 'n running. **Fast**."

"Yes Ma'am."

Bella Donna rounded the corner and saw several guards scurry across the hall. It calmed her a bit to know that they were well prepared, but… if she had any understanding as to what the X-Men were planning, she knew she needed to move quickly.

"Belle, we seem t'be cut off from the exterior power supply. Bu' we got th'back-up generator ready. Do I have a 'go-ahead'? Ma'am? …Belle?"

Fifolet's voice trailed out of the walkie-talkie, which was now hanging in Bella Donna's hand, by her side. She was looking straight into Remy's room, at Remy kneeling on the ground, and at the confused guard that stood over him.

"I dunno what he's doin', Belle, he won't answer me."

Bella Donna cautiously crossed the distance between them, keeping her focus on Remy. When she was right on top of him, she knelt down to his level so they were face to face. She examined his eyes: he was staring at a wall with an intense, but distant gaze.

"Oh no you don't, you X-Freaks." Belle whispered under her breath. She raised the walkie-talkie to her mouth. "Fifolet, when I give d'word, you turn on the back-up generator. Got it?"

The guard watched as Bella Donna slowly rose to her feet. He watched her tower over Remy for a breath or two, completely stalk-still. He watched her hold the walkie-talkie to her mouth, press the talk-button, and still say nothing. And then, just when he thought she was going to turn away, he watched her draw back her foot and swiftly kick Remy in the gut.

"NOW!"

* * *

"Ugh!" Jean hunched over and held her stomach, staggering back a few steps into Scott's bracing arm. Rogue and Beast immediately ran to her side.

"Are you alright, Jean?"

A high-frequency squeal drew attention back to the manor, right before the humming of electrical energy picked up and the exterior lights flicked back on in a successive wave.

Jean looked up at Scott apologetically. "The power suppressor's activated – I'm blocked out."

Cyclops kept one arm around Jean and used his free hand to press his communicator. "X-Men, fall back."

It was Henri who caught everyone by surprise with his slew of French swears. He only slowed his mouth down once Jean-Luc turned and started walking back to the jet in silence.


End file.
